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imaginespazzi · 2 months

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Part 5: One Perfect Day

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7

Let me photograph you in this light (in case it is the last time that we might be exactly like we were)

(In which a procrastinating writer procrastinates giving her ship happiness)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Some Fluff

Words: 7.5K

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. As many of you have reminded me it is indeed Friday and so here we are, nobody needs to yell at me! I know I'm years too late with this but I hope y'all like it anyways, even though this is very much mainly hurt with very little comfort. But for things to get better, they have to get worse and remember, it's all for the plot! There's plenty of creative liberty taken this chapter with how hotels and post-championship celebrations work and other logistics but I wrote it how I needed to so just go with it. Did I edit? Yes. Are there typos and errors anyway? Probably. As always, tell me what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a wonderful weekend lovelies!!

March 2019

The final buzzer echoes through the Williams Arena, and the disappointment of the last couple of years is finally drowned out as the Hopkins Royals win the state championship. Surrounded by the cheers of her teammates, Paige doesn’t know if she’d call this the happiest moment of her life, the stomach flu symptoms haven’t quite faded yet, but she knows it’s definitely on her mount rushmore of times when life was great.

For a second, as she’d been crouched over the toilet with Azzi’s hands soothingly rubbing her back, feeling her soul leave with the remnants of last night's dinner, Paige had almost lost hope. But she’d never been taught to give up without a fight. And so it hadn’t mattered that she definitely looked a little green or that standing up was taking twice the energy it normally did, Paige was going to play today. It hadn’t been a flashy scoring night but she’d done everything else her team needed. And as that lead had built and built and built, Paige knew, the moment was still hers.

“Paigeyyyyy,” Drew is the first one to find her after her and her teammates break apart, launching his tiny body into her legs, “you won!”

Paige laughs, lifting her brother into her arms and spinning him around, “I told you I was gonna didn’t I?”

One by one, her whole family, the epitome of a modern family, pull her into hugs and then they gather into one large group hug, with Paige at the centre of it all. Her siblings look at her with pure admiration while her parent’s eyes are filled with pride. And it fulfils that part of Paige that has always lived a little more for her family than for herself.

As her family moves away slowly, Paige finds herself face to face with Azzi’s shining smile and her heart skips a beat. And she doesn’t really know when it started or even how really, but it gets a little more difficult every time she sees Azzi, for Paige to convince herself that that fluttering in her chest is nothing.

“You look a little pale white girl,” Azzi teases, taking a couple of steps towards the blonde, “glad you didn’t vomit all over the floor.”

“Nah no bullshit flu is stopping Paige Bueckers. The flu is scared of me,” Paige juts out her chest with a smirk, earning her a patented eye roll from the younger girl.

“Oh yeah, you’re real scary,” Azzi indulges before pulling Paige into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m proud of you P.”

Paige smiles into the crook of Azzi’s neck, basking in the glow of the compliment. It’s these little moments they have in between their constant banter, where they let themselves be each other’s biggest cheerleaders, that makes them Paige and Azzi. They pull away, still grinning. and Paige’s eyes roam over the Team Paige jersey framing Azzi’s body. It makes her feel some type of way to see the younger girl wearing her name across her chest, but it’s not a feeling Paige is quite ready to accept. Perhaps it’s been written in their destiny that someday things will change, that eventually they’ll both have to confront the something more that’s simmering underneath it all, but for now, Paige just wants to protect what they already have.

“That’s a pretty jersey,” she says with a wink, fingers rushing over the soft material.

“I was forced at gunpoint to wear it,” Azzi sighs dramatically, “I was actually cheering for Stillwater. Their pg’s kinda cute.”

Paige bristles at the comment, the queasiness from this morning returning with vengeance, “she’s mid as hell on and off the court.”

“Don’t be petty Paige. You think she’d let me wear her jersey instead?”

“You know what,” Paige fights a losing battle with the quick surge of anger that’s taking birth in her stomach, “how about you take off my winner’s jersey and go to the loser’s locker room and beg for her jersey instead.”

She knows Azzi’s joking, knows the point guard on the other team isn’t even really Azzi’s type, knows that even if Azzi’s being serious, Paige doesn’t have a right to feel this way. But that green eyed monster is clawing at her heart, squeezing it and making it hard to breathe.

“Oh- hey hey hey,” Azzi’s quick to grab at her when Paige tries to storm off, “chill dude. You know I’m just kidding.”

“Well it wasn’t funny,” Paige pouts, aware that she’s being unnecessarily childish.

Azzi opens her mouth, about to make some smartass quip but there must be something about how genuinely frustrated Paige looks that softens her expression, “I came to watch you P. I have no idea what that other girl was doing. I was cheering for you the whole time.”

“You’re so sappy,” Paige snorts, throwing a handful of confetti at Azzi, but inside, the ice cold jealousy melts into something warm and lovely, spreading through her heart into her veins.

“Can’t even say nice shit without you being a dick about it,” Azzi rolls her eyes, as she links her arms through Paige’s, “now come on, let’s go celebrate you.”

***

It’s almost 2 a.m. when Paige’s teammates finally begin to filter out of her house, leaving with droopy eyes and tired smiles. She and Azzi stand in the doorway, waving goodbye to every last one of them and it feels a little domestic, like a couple after a dinner party. Paige shakes that thought away the minute it begins to form, forcing herself to ignore the burst of wouldn’t that be lovely that blooms in her chest.

“What if I just fell asleep here?” Paige sags against the doorframe.

“You’d probably fall flat on your face and I’d get an epic video of it.”

“You’re so fucking mean to me.”

“Oh yeah right because you’re so nice to me.”

“Am to,” Paige retorts, before she makes grabby hands towards Azzi, “carry me?”

Azzi swats her hands away, “Absolutely not lazy, it’s one flight of stairs.”

“That’s like 20 steps,” Paige whines. To be honest, she’s not that tired. Out of the two of them, she’s probably closer to being a night owl. But Paige is nothing if not a little bit of nuisance, especially when it comes to Azzi.

“Are you an athlete or not,” Azzi chides, rolling her eyes.

“Bro I just won a championship AND I had the flu. And you won’t even carry me? What kind of best friend are you?”

“Paige.”

“Azziiiiii.”

“Paige I’m tired.”

“Pleeeeeaseeee.”

The younger girl sighs, a sign of her caving in, before turning around so her back is facing Paige's front, “fine, get on you big baby.”

“YES-”

“Dude shut up, you’re gonna wake everybody up,” Azzi groans, always the responsible one.

“Sorry, sorry,” Paige whispers as she jumps onto Azzi’s back, the force of it causing the brunette to take a couple steps forward, “fucking hell Azzi don’t drop me.”

Azzi lets out an indignant squawk, as she regains her balance, “with that attitude, I should drop you.”

“If you’re too weak to carry me, just say that,” Paige teases, wrapping her legs firmly around Azzi’s torso. She buries her shit-eating grin in her best friend’s neck, as she loops her arms around Azzi’s shoulders.

“It is not my fault you’ve put on like a hundred pounds since I last saw you.”

Azzi squeals when Paige pinches at her ribcage and the blonde immediately slaps a hand on her best friend’s mouth, “what happened to being quiet? Now, onwards horsey- OW! Did you just fucking bite my hand!?”

“What happened to being quiet?” Azzi mocks, adjusting Paige’s weight on her back as she begins to walk towards the staircase, grumbling something under her breath about ‘ungrateful best friends’ but Paige knows she doesn’t mean a word of it. She snuggles further into Azzi’s neck, letting herself breathe in the scent of the younger girl.

When Azzi had first left Minnesota, after they’d spent every second since the plane ride back from Argentina, Paige had thought that that hollowness in her chest was temporary, that it would fade once she got back into daily life. It didn’t. And the thing is the word miss had existed in Paige’s dictionary before too but she doesn’t think she really understood what it meant til she started to miss Azzi.

As soon as they reach Paige’s bedroom, Azzi’s already swatting Paige off her back. The blonde falls back onto the pillows on her bed with a content sigh, watching with a cheeky grin as Azzi pretends to stretch out the muscles on her back and her arms.

“I think that might have broke my fucking back,” the younger girl groan, face scrunching up in mock exhaustion, “and I have to sit on a plane again tomorrow.”

That wipes the smile straight off Paige's face. It’s so easy to get lost in the moment with Azzi, so easy to forget that they spend less time together than they do apart. They haven’t bothered with the actual lights but even in the dim glow of the moon through Paige’s windows, Azzi sees her best friend’s change in expression clearly, her own face becoming melancholic. Sighing, she climbs onto the bed herself and lies down next to Paige, intertwining her hands with the older girl’s.

“You could stay a little longer,” Paige says after a moment, eyes resolutely focused on the ceiling.

Azzi let out a wistful sigh, “I wish. But you know I can’t.”

“You can, you just won’t, little miss goody-two-shoes,” the light-hearted teasing eases some of the mood as they both let out soft giggles. They dissolve into a comfortable silence before, “I can’t wait til we’re playing for UConn together.”

Paige misses the way Azzi stiffens a little next to her, too enthralled with imagining a future where she and her best friend could conquer the world together. She knows Azzi, with all her indecisive tendencies, hasn’t quite come around to being anywhere near ready to pick a college team yet but Paige still has time to convince her and Paige Bueckers is nothing if not persuasive.

“So it’s definitely UConn then?”

“Yeah. I mean it’s UConn dude. The UConn. They’re the best. All these other programs are nice but when UConn calls, you don’t say no to that shit,” and Paige means that with all her heart. As the number one recruit in her class, there had been no shortage of offers and of course Paige had entertained them for a little while. But the minute Geno Auriemma had given his offer, everything else had become obsolete. She hadn’t committed yet, still maintaining a façade of being in the decision stage, but all of that was just a front. Paige knows she’s meant to be a UConn husky, there’s no way around it.

“I think you’ll make a pretty damn good Husky,” Azzi says with a soft smile, as she absentmindedly plays with Paige’s fingers.

“We’ll make damn good Huskies,” Paige affirms.

“I don’t know P, California’s pretty tempting,” it’s said teasingly but a hint of seriousness slips through the cracks anyway.

Paige scoffs, “cause it’s hot? Bruh that much heat would be boring. Connecticut gets all four seasons. We’d get the heat and the snow.”

“I get all of that in Virginia already,” Azzi points out with a huff, “maybe I want something different.”

“You do get something different. You get to play with me. That’s different.”

“Yeah but-”

“Dude why are you fighting me on this? Do you not want to be on the same team as me or something?” Paige asks agitatedly, suddenly feeling frustrated with the turn the conversation had taken.

“Okay breathe,” Azzi gives her a stern side-eye, “I was just saying California’s nice. Of course I want to be on your team. Did the shirt not make that obvious?”

Involuntarily, Paige has to smile at the memory of Azzi’s jersey, the team Paige that had been loudly imprinted across her chest, “right, sorry got a little carried away. I just always want you on my team, you know?”

“I’m always on Team Paige. I always have been. I always will be,” Azzi says firmly, as if it’s the most obvious truth in the world.

When Paige turns her head to look at her best friend, the younger girl is already looking back at her and the sincerity in Azzi’s eyes makes Paige’s heart stutter. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige swears she can see every little detail in the dim light. And the thing is Paige has always known Azzi’s a pretty girl, she’s not blind. But it’s different tonight. Tonight Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that Paige wants to memorise until it’s imprinted in the back of her eyelids, the kind of beautiful that she wants to lock away in a treasure chest and preserve only for her own eyes to ever see again. The kind of beautiful that Paige knows she isn’t allowed to think of Azzi as. But still, right now, Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that makes Paige want to try and see if maybe, just maybe, there’s the possibility for something more.

That night, when she finally falls asleep to the sound of her best friend’s quiet breathing, Paige dreams of UConn and championships and at the end of it all, kissing Azzi under the confetti.

***

April 2024

There’s 14 seconds left in the National Championship game and UConn is ahead by eight points. Adrenaline courses through Paige’s veins as that one elusive dream of hers seems to finally be coming closer and closer to fruition. Winning a National Championship had been on her mind since she’d first picked up a basketball. The minute she’d committed to UConn, it had felt inevitable and yet year after year, her team had fallen just a little short. But this afternoon, it seems like it’s finally within grasp. 14 seconds to go. 14 steps closer to having her perfect moment.

Except, every time Paige had imagined this moment, she’d expected her best friend to be there. In the beginning, before everything, she’d dreamed of them being on the court together, running into each other’s arms the minute the buzzer sounded. And then, until the last second today before she had to take the court, Paige had just assumed that when she’d look in the stands, somewhere in the crowd, there’d be the one face she wanted to see most in the world. But no matter how much she squinted, that face had been nowhere to be found and Paige had forced herself to compartmentalise her disappointment, and focus on the game. She hadn’t looked at the crowd since.

The ball is in the other team’s hands, their point guard, diligently calling out plays before she inbounds it. Coach’s words echo in Paige’s head, try for a clean steal but don’t under any circumstances foul. Their pg inbounds the ball and the shot clock starts to count down. The ball bounces through the hands of different players on the other team but the UConn defence is stifling. Their coach is out of timeouts and it isn’t until the last millisecond that they heave up a prayer shot. And it doesn’t matter if it goes in, it’s a two point possession game, but Paige’s eyes are glued on the basketball anyways.

The shot is an airball. The buzzer sounds through the arena. UConn wins their 12th national championship.

For a second, everything goes silent around Paige. The normally over-excitable girl, known for her insane golden retriever energy, is perfectly still. It takes a couple more seconds for the adrenaline to hit. And then she’s screaming, pummeling her body into the rest of her teammates as the bleed blue crowd goes wild. She loses herself in the noise of her teammates cheering and the bright lights of cameras flashing nearby. They did it. And it doesn’t erase just how fucking hard the last couple of year had been, but it makes the burden significantly lighter.

Paige rushes through the handshake line, the opposing team’s coach giving her an appreciative review of her performance before she’s recaptured into a group hug by her teammates. It’s a surreal feeling really, one that’s far better than even her most wonderful dreams. For the first time since the game began, Paige lets her gaze wander over to the family section who are all tearfully hugging, smiling at her parents and then her siblings and then-

When her eyes meet Azzi’s, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has finally settled into its rightful place, completing the perfect picture of Paige’s perfect moment. A #5 UConn jersey hangs loosely against Azzi’s hips as she smiles shyly at her best friend. And Paige is scared to blink, scared if she looks away, the girl in front of her will disappear. It takes everything in her to not rush into the stands, pull her best friend into her and kiss her under the confetti.

Azzi doesn’t budge when the rest of the family and friends crew start to move towards the court. There’s too much attention, too much media, for that to be a feasible option. Paige wishes they would all just disappear, let her have her moment the exact way she’d pictured it. She thinks she’d like to fulfil that dream of hers, kiss Azzi in the confetti, twirl her around, and between it all, let the world know that she was Paige’s.

As always, Drew is the first person to reach her. He’s a little too big for her to pick up, but she spins him around anyway.

“You won Paigey,” her little brother squeals and he might be older now, but that innocent admiration of his older sister is as palpable as always, “I knew you could do it!”

“Thanks for always believing in me, little dude,” Paige says softly, leaning her cheek against the top of Drew’s head.

Over the top of her brother's head, Paige realises with sudden panic that Azzi’s not there anymore. Dread filters into her bloodstream, the voices in her head screaming it was too good to be true. The way her body tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by her mother who’s quick to hold her.

“She said to tell you she’d see you at the hotel later,” Amy Jo says with a knowing smile, before letting Paige’s body sag into hers. She rubs her daughter’s back as relief settles into the younger girl's features, “proud of you Paigey.”

Paige smiles into her mother’s chest. Last year had been the hardest of her life and for a while the light at the end of the tunnel had been hard to see. Today, she feels the light surrounding her, washing away all the darkness from the last few years, bathing her in the glow of happiness.

***

“I always knew you’d look good in a UConn jersey.”

Azzi’s eyes fly open and Paige smirks, leaning her body against the wall. The last couple of hours had been a whirlwind of media, champagne and excited chatter about what the after party would be like. Paige’s focus had been on celebrating, but the thought of getting back to Azzi had been a constantly lingering presence in the back of her mind. And as the bus had gotten closer to the hotel, anxiety had creeped in because what if Azzi wasn’t there? What if she’d changed her mind?

Paige had smiled for the fans outside the hotel, diligently posing for pictures and signing autographs, ignoring the heaviness in heart. But as soon as she was far away from prying eyes, she was bolting towards her room. And then everything was okay. Paige has heard a lot of cliché things about love, about how it makes you hear violins and see stars and all of that, about how it increases your heart rate and makes you flush. But Paige thinks all of that can’t quite be right. Because when she’d seen Azzi, curled up in her sheets, #5 jersey crumpled but still fitted around her body, Paige had only felt a sense of calm. And that Paige thinks, is probably the actual truth of love, it’s about finding peace and to Paige, Azzi has always been her peace.

“I’d look great in any jersey,” Azzi claps back groggily, moving to sit up.

“But you look the best in mine. You always have,” Paige tries to keep her voice teasing, but it comes out sounding rather wistful, and the next words are even softer, “you came.”

Azzi bites her lips, looking down at her fiddling thumbs, “you asked me to.”

Those four little words carve themselves into a little crevice in Paige’s heart as if they’ll stay there forever, as if they’ll echo through her entire body for the rest of time. She practically throws herself onto the younger girl, the force of it pushing Azzi back down into the pillows, as she buries her head in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Their legs slot together of their own accord and it’s a little bit like they’re trying to meld into each other’s skin the way they press themselves as close as possible, til there’s barely space for air in between them. They lie like that for god knows how long; it goes by in a rush and yet ever so slowly.

“I’m really fucking happy you’re here,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s skin, “really fucking happy.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, humming into Paige’s hair as she tightens her grip on the blonde’s waist but Paige can tell by the way she stiffens underneath her, that Azzi’s holding herself back from something. Her heart hammers in her chest as she lifts her face from Azzi’s neck to inspect the younger girl’s face.

“What aren’t you saying to me Az?” she whispers quietly with a sinking feeling.

“Paige,” Azzi closes her eyes. And just that is enough for Paige to understand exactly what’s going through her best friend’s head and suddenly she wishes she’d never asked, just let them have this moment.

“Never mind, I don't want to hear it.”

“That’s not how that works. I- I wanted to wait a little but we- we need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” Paige retorts stubbornly, fighting the tears threatening to spill, “I don’t want to.”

“Paige-”

The girl in question pushes herself off of Azzi, rising to sit on her knees, “this is meant to be the best day of my life Azzi.”

“I know- I’m sorr-”

“What game are you playing, Azzi? Why even fucking come if you were never gonna stay?” Paige spits out.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, as she sits up “maybe- maybe I should have stayed away. But it’s you Paige, it’s you and I- I’ve never been that good at staying away from you. And maybe I’m just really selfish but I- I told you once that I wanted to be there when your dreams came true and so- here I am.”

They’d barely known each other when Azzi had said that, when they had just been young innocent girls with a tentative friendship, lying in the grass and sharing their dreams. Back then, the words had thrown Paige off. She hadn’t quite understood why they had meant that much to her, why they had filled her with more warmth than the sun shining above them. But she’d tucked them away in a little corner of her heart hoping she’d understand it better when she was older. She’s older now and she understands. Except every single emotion she’d felt at fifteen is heightened with the realisation that the words had meant something to Azzi too. And-

Paige surges forward to kiss Azzi. She’s pretty sure this bipolar act of theirs will be the death of them someday but it’s the only thing in the moment that makes sense. Azzi is hesitant at first, clearly too in her head, always the overthinker, but she gives in when Paige squeezes at her waist. It’s not as if they’ve kissed that many times before but it feels familiar, a little bit like coming home. She moves to straddle Azzi’s hips and they can’t get any closer really with every bit of their bodies pressed together now, but Paige tries anyways, tries to etch please don’t leave me into the other girl’s skin. And she isn’t sure if the salt she can taste is from the tears steadily streaming from Azzi’s eyes or the ones free-falling from her own.

The minute Azzi pulls away, Paige misses her.

“We can’t-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Paige cuts Azzi off immediately, resting her forehead against the younger girl’s, “please.”

“Paige,” Azzi breathes out, “I have to go.”

“No you don’t,” Paige says stubbornly.

“Paige please-”

“Stay- fuck please- Azzi- just give me tonight. Tomorrow we can talk and you can-,” Paige swallows, not wanting to say leave out loud, “but please- tonight can we just pretend? Can you give me that? Fuck- can I just have tonight? Please- just- stay.”

Azzi lets out a shaky breath, “it won’t make it hurt less.”

“I know- fuck- I know but I just don’t want it to hurt right now.”

“Okay,” Azzi whispers slowly, thumb caressing Paige’s wet eyelashes, “okay, I’ll stay tonight.”

Paige kisses her again.

***

The UConn team falls in love with Azzi in a matter of hours. No one had been shocked when Paige had shown up to the after party a.k.a everybody gathering at the hotel bar, fashionably late and with a nervous Azzi teetering behind her. It had been awkward at first; everyone was a little unsure of how to act around the new presence. Not only was Azzi from a rival team, but everyone was at least a little aware of her tumultuous relationship with their star player. But then KK had wanted to film a tiktok that needed someone to do random camerawork and when everybody else had groaned, Azzi had quietly volunteered. Much to KK’s delight, Azzi turned out to be quite the cameraman. And that apparently was all that was needed and Paige marvels at the way Azzi just fits.

She moves around Paige’s team as if they’re just as much hers. One second she’s timing some stupid drinking game that KK and Ice are playing, the next she’s sitting in a corner laughing with a more subdued Ash and Q.

Aubrey and Ayanna gush over their girlfriend and Azzi’s coos over their pictures, a hint of wistfulness on her face when she meets Paige’s eyes.

The team does their routine of teasing Aaliyah’s about being vegetarian and Azzi diligently backs the Canadian up with a spiel of how tofu isn’t actually that bad. That gets her a hi-5 from Aaliyah despite the eye rolls from the rest of the team.

Despite being a little tipsy from having been dragged into doing shots with Amari and Carol, the two other people she knows pretty well, Azzi diligently lets Inés and Jana teach her little bits of Portuguese and Egyptian.

Even Nika sheds her frostiness, amused by Azzi’s curiosity to learn her native language beyond just the curse words, and teaches the younger girl a couple of words. Azzi rolls her eyes fondly when she realises she’s been taught to say UConn is the best team ever in Croatian and amidst Nika’s laughter, Paige knows is a hidden acceptance.

But the best part of it is that although Azzi’s suddenly being pulled in all different directions by various UConn girls, she never really leaves Paige’s side through it all. There’s always a little bit of them touching, whether it’s their shoulders or their knees, even when they’re both involved in completely different conversations and activities. It feels oddly domestic and Paige is reminded of the part after her state championship all over again. The burst of i want this forever that stirs in her chest makes her want to sob because it collides head first against a wall of this is only for tonight. And Paige knows that one night won’t ever be enough for her.

“Aye Paige’s girl, come play truth or shots with,” KK’s loud voice breaks through Paige’s cloud of distress and it’s eclipsed by the implication of those two words.

Paige’s girl. The phrases makes itself home in Paige’s heart, sounding so fucking right. She hasn’t let herself acknowledge it truly ever but that’s how it’s always been in Paige’s mind. It’s how she’s always thought of Azzi. As hers. Her Azzi. Her girl.

“I’m not-that’s not-” Azzi’s cheeks are tinted pink as she stutters through her words, withering under KK’s cocked eyebrow.

“Uh-okay if you say so,” KK rolls her eyes, holding her hands up in a sarcastic defensive position, “guess we’re starting off truth or shots by lying.”

The rest of the team laughs as Azzi’s blush grows even deeper and Paige can’t even try and hide her smile, her own neck tingling a little bit as she tucks herself into Azzi’s side. And it’s not real, they’re not anything, but in this moment it feels a little bit like they’re everything.

“You guys are sickening,” Ice accuses when she notices the two of them cheesily smiling at each other, “it makes me gag.”

“They’re cute. Leave them alone,” Caroline chastises, ever the supportive friend.

Azzi leans back against Paige’s arm as the group goes around the circle, asking each other ridiculous questions, cheering like little kids when their teammates opts to drink instead of answering a vaguely invasive question. When it’s her turn, Paige can already tell by the glint in KK’s eyes that her menace mini-me is about to cause trouble.

“Paigey cakes, when’s the last time you had sex?”

Next to her, Paige can feel Azzi stiffen immediately. The shot feels heavy in Paige’s hand as she seriously contemplates taking it. She knows why KK asked the question, probably having concocted some idea of exposing Paige and Azzi. She’d known by the waggling eyebrows that the whole team had thought the two of them were late because they’d been fucking but that couldn’t be further from the bitter truth.

Paige chances a look at Azzi’s face as she bites down on her lips. The younger girl’s face is stoically devoid of any emotion and Paige knows she’s thinking about the night of the crash (or as Paige likes to call it, the most terrifying night of her life) except-

“November, last year,” Paige says slowly and Azzi whips her face around to look at her, lips falling apart in shock.

“Don’t play, there’s no fucking way,” Ice guffaws and Paige shrugs.

“It’s the truth.”

“Bruh what the fuck,” KK looks a little shell-shocked, “how the fuck did you survive that long?”

“Some of us actually know what to do with our own fingers,” Paige quips defensively, trying to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach at the way Azzi’s still looking at her.

“I bet Azzi knows all about your fingers huh Azzi?” and even that, KK’s unhinged commentary, isn’t enough to get Azzi to pull her gaze away from Paige. It’s almost as if she hadn’t heard it all.

“You didn’t- that night?” Azzi manages to get out.

“Couldn’t do it,” Paige mumbles, “she wasn’t you.”

Despite the horde of people around them, they’re in their own little bubble now. There are a multitude of questions swimming in Azzi’s eyes and Paige wants to answer all of them if it means that maybe just maybe, she could prevent the inevitable misery tomorrow would bring.

“Okay Azzi, it’s your turn,” Amari’s voice draws Azzi’s attention away and Paige feels cold without the heat of it. She doesn’t know how she’ll survive tomorrow. Living in the present isn’t working and Paige finds herself already feeling the emptiness she knows will become her reality in a couple of hours. Her fingers tap an incessant pattern on her thigh as she tries to keep her focus on the game,

Azzi swallows nervously before mustering up a grin with false confidence, “I’m ready. Hit me with your best, I’m not drinking.”

“We’ll see about that,” KK smirks, diabolically rubbing her hands together, before she turns to Nika, “all yours Nik-Nik.”

The other girls “ooh”, knowing Nika’s reputation for being notoriously good at this game. The Croatian grins at Azzi, as she sits up from where she’d been lazily lying on the love seat, a glint of mischief in her eyes. And then her eyes meet the forlorn ones of her twin and something shifts. When she looks back at Azzi, there’s a more serious look on Nika’s face.

“Have you ever been in love?”

There’s pin drop silence once the gravity of the question registers. The light-hearted air in the room is replaced with anticipation, as all of Paige’s teammates look back and forth between their point guard and her best friend. Paige isn’t sure if she wants to know the answer, doesn’t know if there’s an answer that wouldn’t break her heart just a little bit. For a second, it looks like Azzi’s going to drink until she puts the shot down on her hand rest until-

“Yes,” she confesses in a whisper, and Paige feels her heart begin to race, “I have.”

“How many times?” Nika prods

“That’s not how the game works. I already answered your question.”

“Different rules for newcomers,” Nika shrugs. It’s a blatant lie but nobody says anything. Paige is still caught up in her own head and the other girls won't challenge Nika, not when they’re just as curious, “I get to ask questions til you drink.”

Azzi narrows her eyes, knowing it’s all bullshit and maybe if she wasn’t a little bit tipsy and competitive, maybe if she couldn’t feel every inch of Paige’s side pressed against her, she’d walk away but she can’t.

“Only once,” she answers.

“With your ex-girlfriend?” Nika asks. The way she raises an eyebrow suggests there’s only one right answer to the question. Paige doesn’t know if there’s a right or wrong answer, only that there’s an answer that would shatter her.

“No. I was never in love with her,” Azzi directs the answer towards Nika, but everyone knows it’s meant for Paige’s ears. And despite the tornado still roaring in her body, the blonde lets out a sigh of relief.

Nika’s intimidating demeanour cracks a little bit when that answer makes her smile, “are you in love with someone right now?”

Even if it’s not said out loud, the implication of Nika’s question, the someone, is clear. And suddenly Paige doesn’t want to hear the answer, not right now, not when they’re both a little tipsy, not when they’re surrounded by all her teammates, not when their future is so unclear.

“Drink,” Paige cuts in, holding the shot in front of Azzi, “don’t answer it.”

“Paige-”

“Drink Azzi,” Paige says firmly.

Azzi looks equal parts relieved and frustrated as she downs the drink, happy to have gotten out of the uncomfortable round of questioning but a little annoyed at losing in front of the UConn girls.

“And you said you wouldn’t drink,” Nika sneers, as she hi-5’s her teammates.

“Because you bent the rules; she did great,” Paige defends immediately and everyone snickers, the mood in the room returning to something more casual.

“So fucking pussywhipped,” Ice teases.

“Shut up,” Paige whines, hiding her face against Azzi’s shoulder as everybody else laughs. If the voices in head screaming this is just for tonight would shut up for a second, Paige thinks maybe she could fall in love with this moment, surrounded by her found family.

It’s almost 3 am when the team decides maybe they should start going to bed, knowing they have a morning flight back to Connecticut. Everyone else is still in a jovial mood, sufficiently drunk of both alcohol and the high of a championship but Paige’s stomach pools with dread. Every minute is a step closer to a goodbye, she’ll never be prepared to say.

They get to the lobby of the hotel when Paige turns to Azzi, ignoring her anxiety to be a nuisance instead.

“No,” Azzi says immediately when she sees Paige making grabby hands at her, “there’s literally an elevator Paige.”

“So? That just makes it easier for you. This is tradition.”

“In what world is this a tradition?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly.

“Since I won the state championship,” Paige grins, “pleeeeease, I’m tired, my feet hurt.”

Azzi gives her an unimpressed look, “you’ve been sitting for the last couple of hours.”

“And before that I was winning a championship, after beating your team by the way,” Paige’s smirk widens when Azzi guffaws at catching a stray.

“Oh fuck off. Reminding me of that is not the way to get me to carry you by the way.”

“C’mon Az, you know you’re gonna give in anyway. You know you wanna sleep, stop wasting time.”

Azzi rolls her eyes with a dramatic sight before doing exactly what she always does, giving into Paige, “hop on then you big baby.”

Paige cheers, latching on Azzi’s back as her knees circle around the other girl’s waist. Unlike when they were younger, Azzi’s doesn’t stumble anymore at the additional weight. She’s stronger now, completely solid and steady underneath Paige and that absolutely doesn’t trigger any inappropriate thoughts in the older girl’s brains, absolutely.

“Y’all are so cringe,” KK crinkles up her face when she turns to look at them as they wait for the elevator, but there’s a certain amount of fondness in her voice, “but Azzi’s cool. Much cooler than you P boogers. You should bring her around more often.”

Paige’s smile vanishes in tandem with Azzi letting out a strangled noise. KK looks between the two of them, slowly realising maybe she’d just put her foot in her mouth.

“Yeah, maybe,” Paige answers noncommittally, trying to keep her voice steady.

Much to her relief, the elevator dings open, saving her from having to say anything more. She wraps her arms tighter around Azzi, burying her face as far into the other girl’s neck as she can and closing her eyes, trying to lose herself in Azzi, instead of in the jail of her own mind.

She doesn’t look up from where she’s nestled into Azzi’s skin, when the rest of her teammates start towards their own separate rooms, telling Azzi how lovely it was to meet her.

“Can you get off her back, so I can give her a hug?” Ice pinches Paige’s arm but the older girl just shrugs her off.

“No. Go hug someone else.”

“Bro you’re so fucking annoying,” Ice groans and Azzi sends her an apologetic wink but it doesn’t go unnoticed that she doesn’t try to shake Paige off like she normally would. It heals something in Paige to know that Azzi doesn’t want to let go either. And she doesn’t understand why they’re doing this, why they’re fighting this, when neither of them want to.

“I think your teammates might like me better than you,” Azzi teases when they finally get back to the room and Paige climbs off of her back. The blonde is too lost in her thoughts to come back with a smart quip. And of course her best friend notices it immediately, nudging her quietly, “P? You good?”

Paige blinks up at Azzi, and even before she says the word, she knows Azzi’s already read them in her eyes, “I don’t want you to go.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs tiredly, “what happened to pretending tonight?”

“Fuck pretending,” Paige blames the alcohol for how loud her voice comes out, guilty only because it makes the girl in front of her flinch, “I don’t want just tonight. It’s no where near fucking enough. I want forever. With you.”

“That’s not- Paige- we live on different sides of the country.”

“For now, but we can make it work. It’s us,” Paige pleads desperately.

Azzi scoffs, stepping away from Paige, “you say that like it a good thing.”

“What-”

“Us! We don’t- it’s not- being ‘us’ is not a good thing Paige. May us from before but us now? Us now is complicated and messy and hard and I just- I can’t do this Paige.”

“You can- we can- Azzi- just- think about it okay- sleep on it- you’ll see. You’ll see, I’m right.”

Azzi shakes her head, closing her eyes as a single teardrop leaks out, “you’re making this so fucking hard Paige.”

“I don’t want to- I’m sorry- I’m so sorry baby,” the term of endearment slips through Paige’s lips before she can catch it, “but I need you to think about it once please.”

She moves to cup Azzi’s cheeks, thumb caressing away the tears, “please.”

“Okay, okay,” Azzi nods, resting her forehead against Paige’s, “I’ll think about it.”

They’re quiet as they get changed for bed, thinking about the same thing. Co-existing together comes naturally to them after years of inhabiting each other’s space and the. there's no getting in each other’s way, even if they’re both dead silent. It’s awkward when they finally get into bed, both of them lying on their back, resolutely staring up at the ceiling. Paige is the first one to move, turning onto her side so she can face Azzi. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige thinks that so much has changed, but Azzi’s still that kind of beautiful, the same kind of beautiful Paige had thought of her as since the state championship.

“What was your answer going to be,” she asks quietly.

“To what?”

“To Nika’s question. Are you in love with someone right now?”

Azzi hesitates a little bit, before turning her own body to face Paige, “you know the answer Paige, you don’t need me to say it.”

Paige doesn’t prod, knowing they were too volatile for her to keep pushing. Instead she reaches over to intertwine their hands together.

“Do you know what my answer would have been?”

“Yeah,” Azzi says softly, squeezing her hands, “yeah I do.”

Maybe there’s peace in knowing. Or maybe there’s only more pain. Paige doesn’t know if the truth sets her free, doesn’t know if she could ever even be set free from the shackles that bind her to Azzi, doesn’t think she even wants to be set free. But at least Azzi knows too. Maybe there’s peace in drowning together.

***

Paige wakes up in a panic when she reaches over and finds the other side of the bed empty. She gets up with a jolt, eyes frantically searching for Azzi, until they finally land on the girl sitting on the couch next to the bed.

“Fuck,” Paige’s voice is still wracked with sleep, “I thought you left.”

“That’s more your style,” Azzi says and Paige flinches at the reminder, “how’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. How about you?”

“Pretty shit actually” Azzi admits, “I woke up every two seconds, scared you’d be gone.”

“Az-”

“You asked me to believe in you- to believe in us and I-” Azzi draws in a sharp breath and Paige knows she’s not going to like where this is going, “I want to- I really, really, wish I could. But I don’t. I can’t- I can’t be with you Paige- not when I’m scared you’re going to break my heart every second.”

“Azzi,” Paige scrambles across the bed, stopping when the girl in question holds her hands up. Everything in her feels like it’s on fire. There are no burn marks on her skin but she swears she’s been turned to ashes underneath.

“And you deserve better than that too Paige. You deserve someone who- who’s not scared. Who can give you all of herself without- without holding back and I- I can’t do that.”

“You can- fuck- Azzi you can- please,” desperation leaks through every syllable as Paige fights what she knows is a losing battle.

“Not right now. Too much has happened between us and we can’t- we can’t just ignore all of that and start something new- maybe someday- but not right now.”

Azzi stands up from her seat, hesitantly walking over to Paige’s side of the bed. She cups Paige’s face, watery dark brown eyes meeting crystal blue ones that are glistening with tears.

“Azzi please,” Paige begs, feeling everything slip away before she’d even had a chance to fight for it.

Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s forehead, holding them there for what feels like the briefest of seconds until she’s pulling away, “I’m sorry P.”

And then she’s gone and every part of Paige’s heart is gone with her.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

Text

In Abstract 1

A sequel no one asked for. First Series: Portrait of a Dangerous Man

Warnings: noncon/rape, some violence, blood, alluded murder (for now?), grief, confusing, criminal allusions, some untagged extreme events.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You adjust to life with Clark, thought the past won't seem to let you go.

Character: mob!Clark Kent

Note: I don't know where this came from.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :) I appreciate your comments and enthusiasm! Reblogs help and are like candy, so please, feed me.

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

A speck of red. A speck of red in a sea of blue. From the observer's eye, one would not notice. But the creator, the artist, the start error is obvious. No inadvertent, but entirely deliberate. A reminder of what it cost you.

You close your eyes and the fleck of blood sears in your mind. Like the site of your boyfriend gasping his last breaths. Ex, now. For a while. It feels like yesterday yet no time at all.

You shiver and hug yourself through the white cashmere. The sweater offers little warmth in the cold house. The glass doors look out onto the white lawn, a fresh dusting of snow trims the covered pool and blankets the landscape. It would be beautiful to any who did not know the sinister secrets of this place. The crimes witnessed by these walls alone.

You turn away from the portrait hung above the gaping fireplace. Even the crackling flames cannot warm you. There is no comfort in this house or the man who resides there. A warden, a maniac, a murderer.

You near the glass doors, eyes drawn to how the snow gathers in corners. The thin sheet of frost that cakes the panes and the fog of your breath as you stand close. The world outside is obscured by your own existence.

Silence. Stillness. Distance. Isolation. The vast grayness of your small world trapped behind a transparent wall. You touch the handle, feeling the cold metal, gripping it tight. A sudden urge to run out and dive into the heaps.

"Dinner tonight?" Clark's voice claps like thunder through the lull.

You gasp and recoil from the door. You turn to him, hugging yourself as much out of fright as the temperature. You step away from the door and your yearning for escape.

"Dinner," you repeat, your hollow voice echoing off the high ceilings.

"Yes, your mother is coming to town? We'll get her from the airport and take her to Elliston's?"

"Are you asking or telling?" You mutter as you drop your arms, tucking your hands up the cuffs.

You sweep away, crossing to the archway that opens into the spacious kitchen. You go to the counter and flip up the lid of the coffee machine. You focus on the rack of pods. It's habit more than anything, often you let your cup go cold, basking in the scent but too numb to taste it.

He follows. You sense him. Like you always do. Always hovering. Always watching.

"Don't be like this. You've been looking forward to her visit."

You grumble as you pick out the cinnamon cookie pod and shove it in the top. You shrug. Not really. You only ever play the part he wants. Move your brush to his whim, streak the paint by his word, lay on your back as he gets what he wants.

"And I have been too. I can't wait to meet your family. All of them."

Your chest winds tight. You can't tell if it's a threat or genuine. He is always hard to decipher. If you had ever been able to see through him, you wouldn't be standing there, trapped in his house, in his grip.

Five months. Five months in your cell. Five months with Marcus' blood on your soul.

"I'll get a room ready," you put a mug under the spout and hit the brew button.

He lurks closer. You stare and wait for the drip to begin. He puts his hands on your shoulders, the fabric turning course beneath the weight of his grasp.

"Nina's already working on it," he growls into your crown, "don't act so hard done by…"

"I'm not," the trickle spits out and hits the porcelain sharply.

"I give your more than he ever–"

You tear away from him, sliding along the counter as you spin to face him. He clucks and tilts his head, slowly pivoting towards you. The anger cordons in his cheek.

"I told you…"

He scoffs. "You're right, he was nothing. Not worth talking about. Sweetheart, it was always going to be me."

You clamp your lips shut as your eyes sting. He doesn't wake up every day in horror, he doesn't sink into sleep like a stone in mud, he doesn’t know what it is to live in black and white when the world used to be painted in a million colours.

"I'll confirm what time she gets in."

He sighs and crosses his arms. You look down at the white sweater and unroll the crumpled hem. You didn't wear cashmere before, no silk, no satin. Just cotton and tweed. Now you wear what he tells you to.

"Find something to wear for dinner," he demands, "and after."

He crosses the pristine tile and you look at him in the face, eyes glossy and pathetic. He kisses your forehead as his hand comes up to your chin, his thumb stroking your lips. He inhales your scent and lets out a growl.

"Wear the diamonds," he demands.

He lets you go and leaves you there. You watch after him as he stalks off, checking the time on his wristband. He clears his throat as he turns out of your sight. Your vision blurs to a muddy blur.

The coffee machine dings and brings you back. As much as you love your mother, how do you explain this to her? Lies are easier on the phone, but face to face, the truth is clear to see.

🎨

Your mother pulls you into a hug, her suitcase forgotten at her side. It's been almost a year since you last saw her. You and Marcus made a rare trip down for her birthday. As solitary as she prefers her life, she cherishes your rare company.

"Tweety bird, it's been so long," she hugs you, swaying you with her. She releases tou and holds you at arm's length, "don't you look like a dead mouse?"

"Ha, yeah, I was up late… painting," you smile thinly.

"Never change," she chides as you sense a shadow approach. Clark grabs the handle of her suitcase and rolls it towards him as he puts his hand on your back. "Oh, who… is this?"

"Clark," you try not to show your frustration. Your mother's always been a touch flightly, "I told you about him."

"Ah, yes, oh, that Marcus," she tuts and shakes her head, "couldn't believe it when you said he ran off but then again, I wasn't unhappy."

"Mom," you sniff.

"Well? He always left his dirty socks on the couch."

You bite the inside of your cheek. You'd rather not talk about him. You fear she'll see right through your story. Clark takes his hand off your back.

"Nice to meet you–" he begins.

"Don't be silly," she pulls him into a hug, an impressive feat as she is rail thin, "you must be the one saving my gal from heartbreak."

"Um, sure," he snorts, "you're Janine?"

"That's the one," she pulls back and fixes her wild waves, "I'm afraid she hasn't given me more than your name."

"She's been busy. Commissions and all," Clark puts on that perfect act. The gentleman with all the charm. The one you fell for. "We hope you're not too tired, I suggested a reservation for dinner…"

"Oh, yes, please, I'm starving. That airplane food is better avoided," she trills, "besides just ask Tweety, I'm mot much of a sleeper."

You shake your head in confirmation and she grins wider. Clark rolls her bag around and waves his arm ahead of him, "ladies."

"Oo, finally got yourself a gentleman."

"Mhmm," you hum as you start forward, "something like that."

🎨

You watch the wine flow into the glass, filling the belly with a rich burgundy colour. Your mother looks around emphatically as Clark gives a curt nod of dismissal to the server. You're left to peruse the menu.

“Wow, this is a fancy place,” your mom comments as she opens the leather folio containing the menu, “where was it Marc would take us? Denny’s?”

You give her a look. It’s strange, you’re mother was never one to turn her nose up at simplicity but there were some very specific sticking points when it came to your boyfriend. Ex. Or maybe money really does corrupt all.

The wine is stringent. You don’t like it. You take a hefty swig and set the stem down heavily. Clark gives you a look. Right, he has his curated image, you have to fit into that.

“So mom, how was your flight?”

“Ah, it’s fine. But I was sat next to this skinny fellow. So nervous. Jittered the whole way. I had to close the window because it made him sick. So I took a nap.”

“I hope you don’t mind shacking up with us. I thought of a hotel but we have more than enough room,” Clark suggests, “after a long day, I’m sure you’d like to just relax.”

“With us? You live together?” Your mom raises her brows.

“You knew this. Remember?”

“No, you said you moved out of your apartment, I don’t remember a where or with who. This is moving fast,” she says, “definitely not a rebound then?”

You cringe. Clark is a better actor than you. He laughs. Or maybe it is really that funny. Laughing at your dead ex and the ensuing predicament. You take another gulp of the disgusting wine.

“Well, the salmon looks interesting, “but I do prefer halibut…” she mulls over the listings, “oh, prawns. Tweety, don’t you remember when you drank all my vodka and puked up seafood all night?”

“Mom,” you swallow.

“Tweety, that’s an interesting nickname,” Clark says, opening the door for further humiliation.

“Ah, yes, well, funny story.”

“Not really,” you intone.

Your mother ignores you as she closes her menu and rests it on the table in front of her. “Her aunt used to give her Tweety Bird everything. Pajamas, stuffies, notebooks… she hates Tweety Bird. Always has but she was too nice to tell my sister so she had this little collection. I bet it’d be worth a bit now. Vintage and all that.”

“Oh, Tweety,” Clark echoes, “interesting. Cute.”

“Yellow did always suit her.”

“Anything suits her, doesn’t it?” He puts his hand over yours, “I tell her all the time. She makes paint stains look incredible. You wouldn’t believe it, at the end of the day she walks out of the studio looking like, uh, what’s that artist that does the splashes?”

“Pollock,” you answer dully.”

“She was always obsessed with men with too much time and not enough talent,” your mother remarks, “art, I’m just happy she isn’t still working at the coffee shop.”

“That was like six years ago,” you retort.

“Still, you have a degree, you should use it.”

“And she does,” Clark assures, “she’s wonderful at what she does.”

“Aw,” your mother almost fawns, “you’re such a sweetheart. Where did she find you and where do I get one?”

You barely restrain from rolling your eyes. Clark basks in the praise. You empty your glass and feel the slosh in your mind. It might be a bit too much but the wine makes the nights go quicker.

You decide on a salad. You’re not hungry. Your appetite is scant at best, food is a necessity, not a joy. Like much of your life now. It makes you miss those numbers you thought were so dire. The easy life of putting numbers in boxes and putting frozen lasagna in the oven.

The server returns and you turn your attention to his convenient arrival. You need the distraction. He nods to your empty glass and you see how Clark takes notice as well.

“Did you require more, mademoiselle?” He offers.

“One will do until we have our entrees,” Clark insists, “no good drinking on an empty stomach.”

You smile and take the stout glass of water from beside the stemmed glass, “thank you. He’s right.”

“Do we know what we’re having?” The server asks.

Clark defers to your mother with a gesture. She orders first. Halibut with the seasonal vegetables. Clark has his usual filet mignon, and you get the cobb salad. You hand over your menu and sit back, twiddling your fingers in your lap.

“Salad,” your mother comments, “when she was a teen, I couldn’t pry the onion rings out of her hands. Now look at her. It’s catching up, isn’t it?”

“Nothing wrong with being mindful,” Clark comments as he brushes his fingertips along his thick beard. He’s let it grow out, his hair too, the curls spiraling past his ears. “It’ll save room for dessert, they have a delicious creme brule.”

“Mmm, amazing–” your mother’s voice catches and she looks past you.

You don’t react right away as another serve sneaks up on you. Clark reaches behind him with one hand, covertly as if trying not to give himself away, and brings it forward as you peek up at the woman all in black. She giddily grins and backs up.

Clark takes a breath and pushes back his chair as he rises. He turns and kneels as the server hovers nearby, hands clutched together. Several other tables hush and servers look up from their work. You feel time halt as your ears ring.

Clark presents a red velvet box as your mouth falls open. For those strangers all around, those who don’t know about you or him, it must look like shock, even glee. But it's thrumming, crashing terror. No. No. Your eyes pinpoint on the large diamonds as he reveals it, three rings of smaller ones around the large.

You look up over his head then over at your mother. She dabs her eyes and covers her mouth in disbelief. You wobble as you turn back to Clark. His voice rumbles in your ears but you can’t make out the words. You blink. And blink. And blink. Gaping like a dead fish.

“...marry me?...”

His question hangs before you. You could keel over and shrivel up. You could stand up and flee. Run until you can’t stop. You close your eyes and see the blood spurting from Marcus’ chest. The image of your mother’s face flits across your mind, replacing his. You won’t let him hurt her too.

“Yes.”

The voice is not your own. It can’t possibly be because you can’t feel it on your tongue but it tickles in your ears. Clark snatches your hand and forces the diamond on, standing as he tugs you up and pulls you into an embrace. He tilts your head and kisses you. The fairy tale he writes for the onlookers is nothing more than a cautionary tale.

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #au #mob au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #in abstract #series #dcu #dc #superman

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skz317cb97 · 1 year

Text

Work it Out

Bang Chan x Female reader

Word count: 3.1k (DRABBLES I TELL YOU!)

Synopsis: Chan asks you to come check out the new pilates machines the guys just got but poor Channie is not very bendy, unlike you.

A/N: Look.... I dunno I have no excuse I hope you enjoy regardless! If you do please reblog, comment, slide into my asks, like, feedback is the ultimate motivation! As always warnings and smut below the cut! 4/8

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Cursing/strong language, oral (f receiving), overstimulation/forced orgasm, squirting, unprotected piv sex (please use protection always but ESPECIALLY if you have multiple partners!), cum shot, cum eating, rimming, lots of dirty talking, alluding to having unprotected anal sex and cream pie, praise, pet names (baby, of course baby girl), rough sex, slight dumification, spit play (a little), I think that's it, there's a lot in this so if I missed something please do let me know so I can add it!

After Jisung made you cum three times on his tongue, which is not an easy feat to do, he helped you try to not look quite so fucked out when you were getting ready to leave. You went to walk out of the studio so Jisung could get back to work and he gently grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Are you... are we...” He looked so worried. You smiled and hugged Jisung then pecked his lips and took a line from Minho’s book.

“Don’t think too much okay? We’re two friends that wanted to screw around and so we did. Did you like it?” Jisung let out a deep breath and laughed.

“Fuck yes!” You smiled sweetly at him.

“Good I did too, maybe we can do it again some time.” Jisung seemed much calmer seeing you so relaxed and after hearing you say that.

“Absolutely!” He said, his smile beaming.

“Good now I’ll see you this Monday for board game night. Tell Seungmin I said no Monopoly it makes Felix sad when he has to go to jail.” You pecked his lips one more time and left the studio. The Monday night game night ended up being chaos as usual. Since Seungmin couldn’t pick Monopoly he picked Life instead and when Felix lost his job and got a lawsuit he started to get those big sparkly anime eyes. You made a mental note to remind yourself to put salt in Seungmin’s next cup of coffee for making Yongbok sad. Chan who was sitting next to you during the board game, leaned over and whispered.

“Don’t put salt in Seungmin’s coffee...” You giggled a little and whispered back.

“How did you-” Chan laughed and his eyes scrunched up.

“It’s practically written on your face. He found a loophole fair and square.” You pressed your lips together.

“I’m not convinced. What about mayo in a donut?” Chan shook his head no.

“Toothpaste in his orange juice?” Chan cringed.

“Remind me never to make you mad.” You laughed.

“Oh yea! I almost forgot! We got a couple new pilates machines set up in the workout room now. Haven’t got to use them yet why don’t you come over tomorrow and we can check em out!”

“Sounds good to me!” You looked over at Seungmin who was smirking as his eyes were zeroed in on poor Felix just as he realized he was getting divorced in the game. You leaned over to Chan and whispered again.

“Oh that’s it me and Felix are baking him a batch of salted cookies together.” Chan laughed and shook his head.

The next day you met Chan to do pilates as discussed. When Chan answered the door and saw you he lagged for a second. You were standing there in a sports bra and spandex shorts, hair pulled back, water bottle in hand. Chan of course was in his signature shorts and tank top with a pair of under armor leggings underneath in addition. He quickly caught up with his brain and moved aside to let you in.

“Hey y/n! You ready?” You walked in bouncing on your toes.

“Oh yea already did some stretching. I’m loosey goosey.” You bent over and touched your toes. Chan cleared his throat and tried to not look at your full round ass, unsuccessfully. You popped back up and so did Chan’s eyes.

“So let’s check these things out. Maybe you’ll be able to bend a little easier with the machine’s help.” Chan nodded.

“Maybe I guess we’ll see.” He led you to the room they designated for the gym equipment and when you walked in there were two pilates reformers set up right next to each other. You ran over to the first one.

“Okay it’s super cool that you guys have these. Let's get going Channie boy, hop on.” Chan raised his eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes but giggled.

“Get your head out of the gutter and get on your machine.” He laughed and his dimples appeared as he got onto the machine next to yours. You started with a few simple exercises first and Chan seemed to be keeping up okay. You tried one a bit harder and you could hear Chan starting to grunt, which did things to your body at the most inappropriate of times. You pushed those thoughts and feelings down and moved into another position that really bent and stretched you out. Chan screamed out dramatically in pain and let go flopping down on the machine.

“Oh come on Channie we just started.” You stretched into the pose deeper. He was red and sweaty and the veins on his neck and arms were popping. Focus.

“No way I can’t do that, I’m not bendy. I’ll just help you. You can spot me on weights later.” Chan winked at you and you felt your body betray you and flush again. Chan looked you over in your position.

“Wow you’re really bendy!” You again tried to pull yourself together and started the next exercise. Chan placed his hand on your leg and helped you stretch and lean into the new pose while keeping you steady. His hand gently squeezed the soft flesh it held onto as your leg came back down.

“I saw this really good stretch for your adductors. Move and get on like this.” He guided you to lay on your back, hips at the edge of the carriage, legs up, and bent at the knee. Then he grabbed the pully straps and helped you place your feet in them.

“There now push into the straps on your feet.” You did. You grunted and you could feel the muscles of your inner thighs contract. You relaxed back into the resting position which you couldn’t lie didn’t leave much to the imagination with your shorts on, you just hoped they weren’t wet with all that moaning and groaning Chan was doing earlier. Suddenly Chan stepped over the side rail of the machine and was between your legs. He put his hands on the insides of your thighs and your whole body buzzed.

“Push again.” You pressed into the pully straps and felt Chan squeeze as your thighs tightened.

“You feel that?” His voice was an octave lower. You blushed and nodded, a little sweat starting to bead on your forehead. You relaxed and slid back into your original position and Chan’s crotch was perfectly lined up with yours. His hands slid from the insides of your thighs to the outsides and started massaging up and down, getting dangerously close to your ass each time.

“I need to tell you something but I need to preface this something by first saying I’m not just a pervert or anything.” You scrunched up your face and looked at the position you were in and then him.

“Yea okay but seriously.” You laughed and nodded.

“Okay let the record reflect that Chan is in fact not just a pervert.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Just tell me what you need to tell me Channie.”

“Okay so I was going through unnamed files on the computer at the studio and I came across one that was really long, which was weird. So I put my headphones in and clicked it and... well... it seems as though Jisung accidently hit studio record when you guys were uh...” Chan did not even need to finish the sentence you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Oh my fucking god you heard us!?” Your head thunked down on the carriage and your hands covered your eyes. Chan kept rubbing your thighs trying to reassure you.

“No all of it! Well at least not at first.” You looked through your fingers as Chan stood nervously between your legs.

“What do you mean not at first?” Chan bit at his plump bottom lip.

“Well I went to click it off right? And I accidently skipped ahead and maybe might have heard your moaning.” You looked at him waiting for the rest of his explanation.

“So you know I turned it off quickly after that but your moaning was echoing in my head after hearing it through my headphones. I’m not proud but I clicked it back on and listened to Jisung eat you out. Your moans were so fucking pretty and my dick has been rock hard every time I’m around you since and I just really want to taste your pussy and fuck you right on this machine, make you moan like that for me. Make you scream for me.” He slid his hands down your thighs again but this time he gripped your ass by the handful. You would be a bold-faced liar if you said your cunt didn’t clench and gush hearing Chan say those words and grabbing you. If your shorts weren’t ruined before they definitely were now. You were apprehensive regardless of how your body was reacting.

“Chan I... I have to be honest Jisung isn’t the only one of the guys that I’ve... well... done stuff with...” Chan nodded.

“I know baby girl you were with Minho.”

“And Changbin.”

“Oh.” You looked away embarrassed and covered your face not wanting to see how Chan was surely looking at you, waiting for the disgust and slut shaming that was sure to come. You had fucked or sucked three of his friends and now look at you, dripping and clenching for him. Chan leaned over you and pulled your hands away.

“Hey, I don’t care if you’ve messed around with them. That’s none of my business. My business is here between these sexy legs.” Chan palmed and rubbed your pussy with his whole hand over your tight shorts and you let out a choked moan.

“Should I stop?” You should say yes. You definitely shouldn’t be fucking a fourth friend but your brain wasn’t making the decicisons anymore.

“No...” You said breathy as he pressed his fingers harder against your cunt rubbing you up and down slowly.

“Don’t stop Channie.” He hummed and smiled.

“You gonna let me eat that pretty pussy?” You nodded as you started panting.

“Yes Channie.”

“Mhm... you gonna let me fuck your tight little hole on this machine yea?” Your shorts were completely soaked with your juices as Chan rubbed your whole pussy faster.

“Mmmm! YES CHANNIE! Want you to fuck me so hard on this!” Chan knelt down in front of your wet shorts he gripped the seam of them and ripped them apart exposing your perfect glazed cunt.

“So fucking pretty, god damn baby girl, such a pretty little pussy. Needs cleaned though.” Chan’s tongue swiped through your folds.

“Taste so sweet, sweet little cunt, gonna eat it so good.” Chan hooked his arms around your legs that were still suspended in the pully straps and started to go crazy on your pussy. Licking sucking slurping, he’d stop long enough to spred your pussy lips and spit on your cunt before rubbing it all over your clit hard and then diving back in and slurping on you more. You could feel his saliva and your arousal dripping down your ass. Chan’s tongue swiped lower collecting your juices and his spit and when his tongue gently brushed against your asshole you clenched hard. Chan’s grip around your thighs tightened.

“You like how it feels when I lick your ass baby girl? Want me to eat that too you pretty little thing? Come here give me that tight little hole.” Chan let go of your legs and pushed your thighs back so your asshole and pussy were easily accessible. Chan spit on your sensitive pussy then on your asshole and started gently teasing it with the tip of his tongue. He was eye level with your cunt and saw how hard you clenched when he teased it. It egged him on and he started eating your ass with enthusiasm, licking a broad stripe from hole to clit from time to time, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves before tonguing your ass again. Chan’s fingers started teasing your clit as he continued to circle his tongue around your asshole and you came so hard you were screaming Chan’s name, thankful none of the other guys were home.

“CHAN OH FUCK... CH-CHANNIE FUCK FUCK YES!” Both of your hands rested on Chan’s head and pushed his face against your ass and pussy harder. He fucking loved it he wrapped his arms around your legs again and was ravenous the way he continued to push you through your orgasm into overstimulation.

“CHAN FUCK CHAN F- YOU GOTTA ST-FUCK GOTTA STOP!” He only hummed shaking his head no. He was hell bent on making you cum again. He slid two fingers inside of you and started pumping them deep and hard as he drank everything your dripping cunt gave him. He stopped eating your pussy long enough to coach and praise you.

“Such a good girl, don’t squirm now baby girl fuck so good, taste amazing, can’t get enough of eating you. Want you to cum for me again baby girl, want you to squirt on my face.” He started sucking on your clit hard, pumping his fingers into you with precision hitting that detonate button inside you over and over again. He hummed as he sucked hard on your clit and you were glad your feet were in those straps. Your body contorted, your back arching as you came as hard as you ever had and started squirting. Chan finger fucked you harder slurping at your juices until your legs trembled in the straps. Finally Chan pulled off of you. You laid there chest heaving up and down legs shaking still being held up by the pully straps. Chan stood up, whipped his shirt off and wiped his face before tossing it then dropping his shorts, pants, and briefs all at once. He leaned over you and you could feel his warm hard cock press against your extremely sensitive cunt. He grabbed your sports bra and ripped it apart freeing your breasts which he immediately started sucking on as he continued to rub his throbbing cock against your slick folds making you twitch and shudder. He squeezed your tits and pushed them together. You laid there still in a haze from the mind-blowing orgasms.

“Condom baby girl?” You just shook your head side to side.

“B-I’m on... I’m on birth control.” Chan bit his bottom lip so hard he drew blood.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you raw baby girl?” You took another deep breath still trying to come down and nodded.

Chan grabbed his cock and lined it up with your drenched hole.

“Such a good girl letting me take her hole raw. I’m gonna fuck you so hard and then I’m gonna cum all over your cute fucked out little cunt.” You nodded and Chan slid his cock in and bottomed out in you immedetly.

“CHANNIE!” He cooed at you.

“I know baby I know shh shh, I said I’m gonna fuck your pretty little pussy hard and I’m going to fuck you hard.” He held onto your hips and started fucking you hard and deep, his hips slapping into your plump ass over and over as he railed you on the new pilates machine.

“Tell me baby girl how’s that feel huh? You like the way my cock feels raw inside you?” You nodded babbling back to him unable to control the level of your voice and shouting.

“Raw! YES RAW! Fuck me raw Channie! SO FUCKING GOOD CHANNIE! CH-CHANNIE I’M GONNA...” Your orgasm came out of nowhere as you continued to scream Chan’s name over and over.

“God fuck yes squeeze my cock baby, cum all over it. I’m not done with you yet baby keep going.” He started teasing your clit and electricity buzzed through your whole body. The grunt that came from you was guttural as Chan pushed you past overstimulation again.

“Can- ca-can't Channie fuck fuck I can’t.” Chan pushed sweaty fly aways out of your face and made you look at him.

“You’re gonna.” With that Chan gripped your hips and started fucking you just as hard as he had been before. You laid there limp on that machine letting it hold your legs up for you at that point as Chan absolutely punished your pussy with his cock.

“Next time you’re gonna let me fuck that tight little ass yea? Give me that little hole? FUCK have you ever been fucked in your ass baby girl?” You shook your head no unable to speak.

“Oh you’ll be so tight baby I’d blow so fast, then watch you squeeze out my cum OH FUCK! You’d let me fuck your ass raw too right baby girl. Pump my cum deep in your ass and make you squeeze it back out.” Your whole body moved with his relentless thrusts, you nodded again. Chan spit on your pussy and then took four fingers and started rubbing them firmly and quickly over your clit as his cock filled you again and again, his spit and your juices dripping down his dick, your legs and ass. He rubbed your pussy as he fucked it hard and you started to squirt again. The moan that came from you turned into a whine and then just heavy breaths. Your cunt tried to force Chan’s cock out as you came hard but he held on to the base and kept shoving himself in deeper, again and again as your cum kept squirting out of you with each thrust. You were twitching, legs shaking, pulling at your hair and breasts. Chan’s hips started to falter. He pulled out his cock and started stroking it fast and hard right over your dripping swollen pussy.

“Gonna paint this pretty cunt white... FUCK! Watch me cum on you baby, watch now watch me cum!” When you forced yourself to lift your head just to watch Chan cum on you he moaned and his cock twitched in his hand and he started coming. Stripes of his hot seed shot across your tummy and pussy lips and started to drip, Chan kept stroking his cock fast as more cum streaked across your slit and dripped down. He held on to his cock tightly and walked over by your face, presenting his it to you.

“Suck it baby girl, get it all.” He put the tip of his dick in your mouth as you laid there completely fucked out again. You gently sucked on it collecting his taste and swallowing it.” Chan rubbed the tip of his cock across your pouty lips twitching and shuddering from his own overstimulation. You ran your fingers through the cum on your tummy and licked it off prompting Chan to run his fingers through your sensitive cunt and collect more before shoving three fingers in your mouth and making you suck them clean.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @hyunelixies @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy

“Come on, let’s go shower. Wanna see you wash that pussy real good for me and I’ll let you eat all my cum you want baby girl.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #chris bang smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#skz smut drabble series

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

Head Filled With Demons Part 2 (Steddie X You)

A/N: If you haven't read that first one please do! It explains some things. Again, I play fast and loose with demon mythology and some things that happen in Season 4 of Stranger Things.

By the way! You guys ask a lot of thought provoking questions :). I love it! I do want y'all to know I plan on answering any things I allude to in any of the chapters in future ones so dont worry <3

There is a scene where they are talking in her head. Eddie's dialogue will be in red.

Warnings: Demon Steddie X Human Female Reader, SMUT, this dips heavily into their dominate side (smacking, rough smut, choking, taunting, holding her wrists down, undermining names like "Little Girl".), there are mentions of the readers past relationships with other partners crossing the lines (very brief). FLUFF, they do open up a bit more with her and vise versa.

ANGST: Lots of Angst! We do learn more about why both demons were banished. There are two killings including the HER Eddie has mentioned. Readers father is sick, talks about losing her mother, this chapter does focus a lot on the grief of losing any kind of loved one <3, mentions of blackmail (in a vision) as well as a sick child (very brief, not described just mentioned).

Word Count: 7545

It’s so warm…why is it so warm?

As your eyes shoot open, you realize the room is on fire and you immediately jump out of bed. Bolting to your window, you try to pull it open but it won’t budge. The buildings outside are in just as bad a shape as you watch Hawkins residents run from the blazes that surround them.

“Dad?!”

Quickly, you run to open the door and head to your father’s room, shocked when you don’t find him there.

“Dad! Where are you?!”

Sprinting into the burning living room, your stopped by the presence of your two demons looking down at you with soft smiles.

“We told you what would happen, honey.”, Steve shrugs. “It’s kind of funny this is how we would go out, huh Ed?”

“No! I still have time!”

“No, sweetheart. You don’t…but you did the best you could.”

“Where…where’s my dad?”

They don’t answer as they continue to stare at you with those gentle brown eyes. It reminds you of how each of your parents looked at you when they told you they were sick; pain and empathy, mixed with…acceptance.

“You don’t have to stay here. Go to Oblivion. You said you could live there and be safe!”

Eddie stepped forward and tenderly ran his thumb along your bottom lip.

“I already lost one princess. I’m not losing another.”

Abruptly, he yanks you to his chest and wraps his arms tightly around you before you feel another set of limbs hook around your waist. The world around you seems to shake as the house caves in—

A gasp leaves your mouth as your body shoots up in your bed. Panting, you look around the room trying to find your bearings as you slowly begin to realize you’re safe and it was all just a dream.

On impulse, you reach out to the other side of the bed behind you only to realize Steve isn’t there; neither of them are. Sighing, you rise from the mattress and get ready for the day.

***

“I see Space Cadet is back.”, Carol mocks as she smacks her gum. “Are you going to work today or are you just going to stand there staring into the void?”

You glare at her, flashing a fake smile as you continue to fold the clothes in front of you.

“No one would blame you for killing that one.” You jump at the sound of Eddie’s voice. “After what she did to you and the fact that she still has the audacity to still be a bitch.”

“Plus, popping gum like that is fucking annoying.”

You smirk at Steve’s comment as you try not to look at either of them, not wanting to seem like a crazy person talking to yourself.

“Y/N! My office, please.”, your boss shouts from across the store.

“Geez, ok Dick, don’t need to yell.”, Eddie playfully whines as you head towards the back area.

“Hey Richard. Is something wrong?”

“Um, yes, Y/N there is but don’t worry we’re talking to everyone not just you. It seems that…”

His voice drones on as both demons lean against the wall behind him. “He’s not an innocent for sure. He blackmails women all the time who are caught shoplifting.” Steve snaps his fingers and you see a quick flash of your boss sauntering around the office you are currently in as a twenty-something year old girl sits with her arms folded.

“Now, I don’t want to call the police and I don’t have to…if you do something for me. A girl like you seems to be very good with her hands…”

“What do you think, Y/N?”

You rapidly shake your head and the image disappears. “Huh?”

“I asked if you noticed anything odd since we’ve been missing money from the till every night.’

“Oh! Um… no I haven’t but I’m also not here past six because of my dad…”

“That’s right. I’m sorry I completely forget that you look after him. Alright, just...you know…keep both eyes open.”

Politely nodding, you get up and leave the room as quickly as possible.

“You need a new job, sweetheart. Maybe after you save the world from the apocalypse you can find something better with people who aren’t douchebags.”

“That’s every customer service job though.”, you whisper.

“She’s not wrong.”, Steve chuckles. “It’s like hell before you go to hell.”

Turning to face the wall, you pretend to organize some of the items in front of you. “Have you two ever been there? Hell?”

“Steve, I’m starting to think she can’t read. No, Y/N. We’re from a different realm, remember. Completely different place.”

You scowl at him, stomping towards the backroom where no one could see you. As soon as you closed the door, they both appeared behind you.

“Why are you such an asshole to me? Aren’t you supposed to be like on my side or something? Didn’t that thing say you two were good at relieving stress?”

“I don’t know, you tell us. Did we do good last night?”

“That doesn’t give you license to be a jerk. And aren’t you supposed to be protecting me?”, you ask gesturing towards Steve.

“From physical harm, not your personal feelings.”

“Y/N!” You huff under your breath as Carol barges into the room. “Are you going to work today or what?!”

“No! No, Carol, I’m fucking not! I’m using some of my sick leave.”

“Y-you can’t do that!”

“I can’t? Well shit. I should stay here then. Maybe I can talk to Richard again about how great of an employee you are. I think he would love to hear about you fucking my boyfriend in the breakroom during business hours!”

“I-I-I…um…”

“Good. I’ll see you in a few days.” You give her a sassy wink as you storm out the front door.

########

You lean your head next to your mother’s gravestone as you exhale heavily.

“That was amazing. Watching you standing up for yourself like that.”, Steve softly smiled as they both sat next to you. When you didn’t respond, he glared at his friend and nudged him with his elbow.

“Y/N, I’m…ugh…I’m sorry for…hurting your feelings.” Eddie winces at the last word like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Have you always been mean like this?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

You giggle at their answers as you shift your body to face them a bit more.

“Were you ever mean to her? Your princess.”

The metalhead’s eyes clouded over with anger as he growled and turned away. “I told you not to talk about that. You don’t know anything about it.”

“That’s why I’m asking.” When he growls again, you sigh turning your attention towards the gravestone next to you. “When my mother died, it killed me to talk about her. I know that sounds dramatic but it’s true. Anytime anyone would come up to me and give me their condolences or talk about some memory with her it was like being stabbed in the chest. I would always think ‘The fuck do you know? She was my mom and meant so much to me.’ People only knew her for small moments…I knew her my whole life.”

When you glance at Eddie again, you notice his entire demeanor has changed. He’s still glaring at the ground but his face softened as he listened to you speak. His jaw tightened before his eyes closed and he snapped his fingers. Images filled your mind of a beautiful, bright world with the sun beaming on a mansion style home.

You heard sniffles from a figure sitting outside against the wall of the house. She was curled into a ball, crying into her arms as she hugged her knees to her chest.

“Are you alright?” The girl jumps at the sound of Eddie’s voice. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, princess. I just…wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m…can I ask you something?”

He comes to her side and slides to the ground. “Of course.”

“Do you…ever feel like…you’re losing your mind?”

Eddie flashes her a toothy smile before playfully pouting out his lips. “Oh, you know…just on a daily basis.” As she laughs, his smile grows. He loved the sound of her laugh. “What’s going on, Chrissy?”

She gazes up at him with her big, beautiful eyes before curling up in his side. “My dad wants me to marry someone I don’t want to.” She began to cry harder as he pulled her tighter to him, resting his chin on her head. “I just want to be with you.”

The memory cleared and you were back in reality.

“She was gorgeous.”

“Yeah…she was.”

“Do you know what happened? To her I mean.”

“Does it matter?”, Eddie snapped. “She fucking died and they blamed me.”

Steve hesitated a bit before raising his fingers and snapping them together.

“Chris! Come on!”, Eddie whispers as he enters her room. “We need to go now, babe.”

His eyes scan the scene in front of him as his body freezes at the sight. Chrissy was on the floor with a knife in her chest as blood drenched the carpet around her. The weapon was one he had used before but gave to her so she’d feel safe.

“Baby?” He fell to his knees as he reached out to touch her face…she was gone. “N-no. No, no, no!” Eddie pulled out the knife and threw it across the room as he lifted her into his arms. “Wake up, princess, please! Please, baby. I need you.”

The doors to her room flew open as her father’s guards charged in; people he knew Chrissy considered like family.

“Come on, Edward. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

He tenderly kissed the princess’s forehead before slowly getting to his feet and bolting towards the hidden exit he entered through.

“You fucking asshole!” The memory shook from your mind as Eddie punched Steve in the arm. “Don’t you ever show her my memories again! You had no right!”

“To be fair, I got banished with you. I have every right.”

“Fuck you.”, he growled before abruptly disappearing.

“Where do you guys go when you vanish like that?”

Steve sighs as he gestures absently. “Around. We can’t go far but…”

“Do you blame him? For getting you kicked out of your home?”

Without any hesitation, he shakes his head and snaps his fingers again.

“Steven! How can you not know where he is?! He is your best friend!”

“Sire, trust me, I’ve looked for him. I want to talk to him to but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“Please…talk to him about what?! The only thing I want to hear from him is the sound of his screams when he’s tortured for all eternity.”

“Sire, if I may, he wouldn’t hurt her. They were friends.”

The king loses his composure and shoves the demon against the wall of his home. “I don’t give a fuck what they were. He KILLED my child. Now, either you bring him to me or you can join him in a cell. Personally, I don’t care where you end up.”

“I knew he didn’t do it. The three of us were friends. I saw the way they were together. She was always happier in his arms than anywhere else.”

Your heart breaks as you lean against his shoulder. “Did you ever have anyone you felt that way with?”

He grins as he leans back on his hands. “There was this girl I really fell for. Would you believe she ended up with a demon slayer?! Of all people!” His grin grows when you genuinely laugh. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you home.”

“You’re not going to harass me into killing someone tonight?”

“Not tonight. I think you earned a break.”

***

“Miss Y/L/N?”, the man greets you as you’re walking up the path to your house.

“Um, yes? Can I help you?”

“I’m Detective Hopper and I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions if that’s alright.”

“Oh, um, sure…of course.”

“Did you see anything strange last night or out of the ordinary? Maybe someone in the neighborhood you had never seen before.”

“Ah, no sir. I usually work until 6 and then I come home to take care of my father. He’s in bed most of the time so he wouldn’t have seen anything either.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. That he’s ill…not that he didn’t see anything… Look, here’s my card. If you remember something or if you see something suspicious just give me a call.”

“Yes, sir. Should I be worried? Did something happen?”

“Oh, nothing for you to be worried about ma’am. Just always make sure to think smart and stay safe.”

You nod and watch him get into his car before driving away.

“You wouldn’t want to kill him. He’s actually one of the few good people here.”, Eddie exhales in frustration. “You two have a lot in common though. His daughter got sick and passed away a few years after your mom.” As he raised his fingers to snap them, you quickly closed your hands around his.

“Please… not really something I want to see. I know what it feels like with a parent. I can’t imagine what he went through with a child and I don’t want to.”

He nods his head, affirming your request as you open your front door.

“Dad, what did I say? You’re supposed to be in bed.”, you whine as you take off your jacket and head towards him.

“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to be home for another hour.”, he chuckles. “Who are your friends?”

You freeze as you turn to give him your attention. He’s smiling directly at the demons in front of him but only you should be able to see them, right?

“My friends?”

“I know it’s been awhile since you’ve brought anyone over but yes, Y/N, friend.” Your dad rises to his feet and extends his hand to both of them, beaming proudly when they finally shake it. “What’s your name, boys?”

Holy shit. He can see them…

“I’m Steve and this is my friend Eddie.”

“Pleasure. How do you know my daughter? From work?”

“Something like that.”

“She’s never mentioned you but she doesn’t tell me much about that store to be honest. Well, I hope you’ll stay for dinner.”

“Which I will make in a bit. I just have to talk with them about something really fast here. Come on, guys.” You shove them towards your bedroom and shut the door. “Why can he see you?!”

“I, honestly, have no idea. Maybe family members can see us to.”

“Eddie, how stupid do you think I am? ‘Maybe family members can see…’ You two have been doing this for how long and you’ve never come across this before?!”

“No, we haven’t. I think more than anything though we should focus on the fact that we don’t eat.”

“Not food anyway.”, Eddie smiles coyly in your direction making you giggle.

“You’re so stupid. Ok, ok. I trust you. Um… you can’t eat any type of food?”

“No. We don’t get our energy that way like you humans do.”

“Shit.” You continue to think before clapping your hands. “I got it!”

###############

Your father laughed as he continued telling the demons the story of how he and your mom met. He loved to tell that story to anyone who would listen and to your surprise both of them did in fact listen. They seemed so entranced in his tale like little kids listening to an adult read them a book.

“I’m telling you, boys. I literally fell for her, flat on my face! She was so beautiful though… I couldn’t take my eyes off her when she went out onto that stage and danced. I remember thinking ‘what the hell would a ballerina want with a greaser like me’? She got so mad when I actually asked her that.”, he chuckled.

“Could she do the whole spinning on her toes thing?”, Steve asked as you came around to clear their dishes.

You had decided to make a meal that required bowls instead of plates so their meals wouldn’t be on display and they could hide the fact that they weren’t eating anything.

“She absolutely could. The first time she showed me, she explained how she was doing it like she was reading a phone book. Just so monotone!”

“Yeah, dancers have amazing strength in their legs and abs. Chrissy used do flips and stuff all around her house and I was just amazed.” Eddie paused then, realizing what he just said as he shifted his gaze down to the table.

When you sat back down, you placed your hand on his lap comfortingly. You dad sensed the change in tone, knowing it all too well.

“When my wife died…it was like getting hit by truck. We had so many more plans and things we wanted to do. I hate that we didn’t have more time but I’m so grateful for the time we had and the gift she gave me.”, he smiled as he gestured towards you. “No one can take those memories away from you, son. I’m sure while she was here you made her feel happy and loved.”

Eddie’s hand reached down to cover yours as he held your hand. You knew he was trying to not disappear again especially since your dad could see him. He as being forced to face this conversation and it was killing him.

Your father began to cough and you quickly ran to his bedroom, coming back with his medication.

“Stop! Don’t…don’t look at me like…like that. I’m fine.” You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans back into your hug. “Here…I’ve bothered your friends…enough. Go spend some time together…without this old man.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Y/L/N.” Steve politely grins down at him, Eddie doing the same. Before he can walkway though, your dad tugs on his hand.

“It’s…it’s ok to care about someone again…Eddie. You’re not replacing her…you’re just…opening your heart again.”

The demon gently pats his shoulder as he leaves him to head for your room.

***

You sat on your bed, fiddling with their stone as you continued to examine it.

“What’s it like for you guys in here?”

“We’re not genies, honey. We don’t literally live in the stone. It’s just a conduit, I guess you would call it.”

“We have kind of a whole little area to ourselves.”, Eddie adds.

“Can you show it to me?”

“Uh, unfortunately no, and trust me. You don’t want to see it.”

“Are you prisoners?”

Their eyes shoot up to fully look you over.

“I guess it depends on your definition of ‘prisoner’.”

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you meet their gaze. “Are you happy?”

“I don’t really remember what happy feels like.” Steve turns to glance at his friend, taken aback by his honesty. “After she…Chris… died, I felt so lost. I didn’t know what to do so I ran. While we were wondering around the realms, by the time we found the one who gave us this task I was elated. At least we could finally stop moving around and just do this.”

“Steve?”

“When the princess was killed, everything changed. Home didn’t feel like home anymore.”

His fingers hovered in the air again, pausing before Eddie nodded and he snapped them together.

A front door burst open and Eddie was tossed violently to the ground at Steve’s feet.

“Found him trying to get in a boat and swim across the shoreline there.” One of the demons boasted as he held the wanted demon down with his boot. “This is it. Imagine how the king will reward us when we bring him the head of the demon who brutally slaughtered his daughter.”

Eddie flinched as he laughed.

“Wait. Who said anything about killing him here? We’re supposed to take him back alive.”

“I’m pretty sure his majesty won’t mind if we—”

As the demon kicked his friend, Steve shoved his chest knocking him back.

“No! We follow orders.”

“What do you care? Don’t get soft now just because he’s your best friend. I’ve seen you tear apart demons you’ve known longer than him just because you were told to.”

“That’s right. I was ordered to. Just like I’m ordered to bring him in, Jason.”

“The princess was your friend to. You saw what he did to her. Are you really going to let him get away with that? Don’t you want to fuck him up even a little bit?”

Steve looks down at his bleeding friend before growling low in his throat. “I do.”

“There we go! Let’s tie him up with that rope and—”

While the demon was talking, he made the mistake of allowing Steve to get behind him, giving him enough opportunity to ram his bat into his skull. Jason fell to his knees before slumping to the ground. He yanked his weapon back and pointed the end towards Eddie.

“What. Happened?”

“I-I don’t know. She was dead when I got there, Steven. I swear. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

His jaw clenched as he extended his arm for his friend to take.

You gasped as your reality came flooding back.

“Whoa! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just…gore…not a fan. Even after—”

“Sorry. You get used to a story so much you kind of forget details like that.”, Steve chuckles. “So, yeah, I didn’t really care to go back home if everyone was going to be like that especially since one of my friends was dead and the other was banished.”

“Aw, I love you to, man.”, Eddie smiled as he patted his back before turning to look at you. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just…you’re not like how I would expect demons to be…”

His grin grows as he covers the side of his face with his long hair. “Mean and scary?”

“Something like that.”, you giggle.

He and the other demon share a look and he knows without his friend having to say it; you are just like Chrissy.

“We can be mean if you’re into that.”, Steve winks.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never… you don’t have to…”

“Don’t have to what?” His head tilts when you gesture towards your body, mimicking your movements. “I don’t know what this means. You have to say what you’re thinking out loud like a good girl.”

“You don’t have to…sleep with me again.”

“Did we sleep last night?”, Eddie asks playfully. “I don’t remember much sleeping.”

“Oh my God-goodness. I’m just saying you don’t have to! I’m not someone you have to please or whatever.”

“Why did you correct yourself just now?”, he inquires as he wiggles his finger in your direction. “You started to say God and then stopped. Why?”

“Um…I don’t know. I—”

“You’re a terrible liar.”, Steve laughs.

Your gaze shifts between theirs as their eyes heavily penetrate your own. “Eddie didn’t like it. I don’t want to offend you or anything.”

The demon softly smiles at your honest answer. “You listen. You are a good girl.” He turns to face his friend who leans his head against the wall behind him. “Now can we use her our way?”

A heavy exhale leaves your lips at his choice of words as they both focus back on you.

“What do you think, Y/N? You want to play the demon way?”

“Will-will it hurt?”

Steve shakes his head as Eddie grins. “Not unless you want it to.”

“Is, um, is there a safe word or something…”

“Do you feel like you need one?”

“I think you forget, sweetheart, that we can read you. We know where your boundaries are.” The metalhead looking boy snaps his fingers and you see a quick flash of all your sexual counters. None extremely worthwhile but a couple of times, men had crossed a line.

“Ow, Dean! Don’t bite me like that. It hurts.”

“Stupid whore. You like being fucked hard like this don’t you, slut?”

“Honestly, Kevin, you’re making me feel dirty not sexy.”

“Ow! Y/N! Jesus Christ, Stop!” The boy ducks as you try to smack him.

“You’re supposed to go slow, you asshole! Not just ram it in. I told you I’ve never done anal before!”

“Hm, thanks for that.”, you whine as you wave your hand in front of your face like it wipes the memories.

“We wouldn’t hurt you like that but, again, if it makes you more comfortable…”

“I…I trust you.”

They both smirk in your direction and a shiver runs down your spine to your core at the sight.

“So, I’ll ask again, do you want to play our way?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Steve, I do…want to play the demon way.”

Both their heads straightened up as the smiles that had painted their beautiful faces began to fall as they starred at you. It felt like they were looking into your very soul and you couldn’t help but feel a little frightened.

“Alright, little girl. Let’s play.”, Steve growled wickedly as his fingers snapped and your world went dark.

#############

Your eyes snapped open as the breeze from outside hit your face. Rising to your feet, you realize you’re in a forest you’ve never been to.

“Have you ever done roleplay, Y/N?” You jump as Steve’s voice filled your head, quickly turning around to look for them and finding no one. “It’s ok, honey. You can scream and shout here. It’s part of the reason we chose this place.”

“We also kind of like the camp of it all. Demons fucking an innocent girl out in the middle of nowhere.”, Eddie giggles.

“Where are you?”

“Around.” This time they both chuckle as the wind around you picks up.

“I’m not innocent.”

“In life maybe not but sexually, sweetheart… You may as well be a virgin.”

“You of all people know I’m not a virgin.” When you turn around, you are suddenly met with Steve’s palm around your throat.

“We aren’t people, Y/N. Never forget that. Never forget that we are demons. We are above small beings like you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes. WHAT. You better show us some respect, little girl.”

“Yes…sir…” You gasped for air as he threw you to the ground. He looked down at you with amusement when you sat up and clung to his leg like a scared child. Abruptly, you fall forward and just like that he’s gone.

“Aw, baby. Are you afraid?”

“No!”, you try to sound confident as you rise to your feet.

“You’re right. She’s a terrible liar.”

“What frightens you more, Y/N? The fact that you have no control or the fact that you like it?”

A ringed hand brushes lightly through your hair as lips gently kiss along your neck. When you turn your head to kiss them, you find yourself alone.

“Answer. Me.”

“I don’t know how to let go of that control.”

“We can show you how. We can show you a lot of things, princess, if you’ll let us.”

“Is that the ‘demon way’? I thought creatures like you just take what you want.”

“Creatures. I like that. Good choice of words, little one. It’s never quiet that simple. We can’t just take…it has to be offered.”

“Then…then take me.” The wind around you stops as the woods become silent. “You both deserve to feel good to after what you showed me. I gave you permission to do it your way. I trust you.”

“As you wish. Hey, honey?”

“Run.”

***

You didn’t need to be told twice as you ran in no particular direction. Hell, you didn’t even know where you were, you just needed to go. You imagined wherever you were headed, they were leading you there. You understood that you had just asked two lions to be their prey and the thought drove you wild.

Panting against a tree, you stopped to catch your breath. As you looked at your surroundings, a small rundown house that looked like it had long been abandoned suddenly came into a view. Carefully, you moved towards it, finding the front door open.

“Hello?”

No one responded except for the creaks in the wood as the wind quietly blew. Powerwalking towards the fridge you were grateful to find cold water within it…almost like it was left for you. You chugged down as much as you could until you felt your thirst was quenched, placing it back where you found it before beginning to look around.

There was really nothing of note that stood out. All the picture frames you passed were empty and besides the typical furniture there was no other decoration. As you glanced down the hallway, you noticed a faint light coming from one of the rooms and went to investigate.

There were candles strategically placed everywhere illuminating the bed in front of you. A sudden chill caused you to rub your arms, making you gasp when you realized your clothes you had on abruptly changed. When you looked down, you were no longer wearing jeans and a t-shirt but a red silk nightie with nothing underneath, no bra, panties, or even stockings for your feet. You felt extremely vulnerable but as you started to back out of the room, your back hit something hard.

“Took you long enough.” Eddie’s low, rough tone sent a shudder through your body. “Get lost?”, he asked as he grabbed your hair and pushed you to the floor. “I imagine your legs are probably tired from all that running. Don’t worry, we’re going to let your rest on your knees for a while.”

A naked Steve sauntered into view from the side, his large half hard cock now level with your face.

“Open up, little girl.” Your mouth had barely begun to widen before he shoved himself between your lips. His fingers gripped both sides of you head as he thrust his hips, pushing his length to the back of your throat making you gag. “Fuck, that’s it. Take it, honey. Take my dick like a good girl. Don’t forget about Eddie.”

Steve released you just long enough for the other now naked demon to thread his digits back into your hair as you wrapped your lips around his thick cock. He groaned at the feeling as you flattened your tongue and bobbed your head. “Good, baby. Keep stroking him. Last night was—mmm—was about you. Tonight is for us.”

As you alternated between them with your mouth and your hand, you felt your slick begin to drip down your thighs, your pussy desperately needing to be touched.

“Hey!”, Eddie growled as he yanked your hair back, forcing you to meet his angry eyes. “Did we tell you to move? Huh?! ANSWER ME!”

“No…no, sir. I’m sorry!”

“If no one told you to fucking move then why are grinding your hips like that?!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Just like with his friend as soon as the demon let you go, you wrapped your body around his leg, holding him tightly. “I’m sorry.”

His large palm began to pet the top of your head making you feel like you were on the moon. He was accepting your apology; you were being forgiven. You were being good for them and right now that’s all you wanted, you wanted to please them.

Eddie’s arms slide under yours as he lifted you off the floor and carried you to the bed, throwing you on to it horizontally as if you weighed nothing. Tugging you to the edge, he took the base of his cock in his hand and slid it between your glistening folds.

“Fuck me. Are you really that desperate for us right now? Geez, Steven, these fucking humans are always so easy to please. Do you want my dick, Y/N?”

When you only nodded, his lust fueled eyes flicked above you before a hand flew across your cheek.

“Words, little girl. You answer him when he asks your something.” Steve’s massive fingers held your head in place, forcing you to stare at his friend.

“Pl-please. I want—mmm—I want your dick.”

“Yeah? Keep begging, Y/N, because I’m not sure that I believe you.”

“Please! Please, Edward. I want your thick cock inside of me. Make me cum, please.”

The demon’s head tilted at his correct name. Only other demons ever called him that but for many years now even he and Steve referred to him as Eddie. The last time someone else called him Edward was the last time he spoke to Chrissy.

“Something bad is about to happen! I know it!”

“Chris, baby, hey.”, he wrapped his arms around her to stop her from pacing. “Nothing bad is going to happen. I won’t let it.”

“My father is having the ceremony tomorrow. After that, I’m never going to see you.”, she cried into his chest as he held her tighter. “Henry won’t allow us to—”

“Sweetheart, fuck that pretty boy alright? I mean not literally but…” Eddie smiles when he feels her giggle. “Why don’t we leave? Huh? Run away with me.”

“Run where?”

“Anywhere! We can go further out or hell we can hop to other realms. Steven knows all about that.”

She pulls back, gazing up at him with nothing but adoration. “Ok.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s do it. Meet me here at midnight and we’ll go.”

He grins as he kisses her forehead and runs towards the hidden passage in her room. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you, you freak.”

Chrissy laughs harder as she shoos him with her hand. “I love you to, Edward. Now, go!”

“Hey…” His curls move as his head shakes at the feeling of your thumb caressing his skin. “Are you okay?”

Eddie blinks before grabbing your wrist and shoving it to the mattress. “Why did you call me that? Edward? Why?”

The demon’s abrupt insistence startled you as his face hovered over yours. “I-I-I was being respectful. S-S-Saying your name properly. I’m sorry, Eddie.”

A loud growl mixed with a grunt reverberated through his chest as he guided his cock a bit roughly into your entrance. He didn’t inch his way in this time, fully thrusting into you as your back and neck arched up at the intensity. The demon’s lips whisper into your ear as he began to slowly slam his waist into yours.

“You…you can call me that here, baby. I—f-fuck—I don’t mind. With pussy this good, you’re the only one who can.”

Your eyes rolled back at his words as you clenched around him. Standing again to his full height, Eddie held your legs open wide as he thrust into you. Knees straddled either side of your head as Steve’s cock came into view.

“Open your mouth, honey, and don’t move your head, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

He grinned down at you before sliding his length between your lips. Your hands flew up to cling to his thighs as he began slowly fucking your face.

“Good—mmm—good girl, Y/N.”, Steve moaned as his palms reached out to play with your tits.

You couldn’t see much from the position they had you in but out of the corner of your watery eyes you could swear you saw Eddie pull Steve’s face to his shoulder as they both grunted at the feel of you. Did you see him place soft kisses along the tattoos splattered along the demon’s chest or was your mind playing tricks on you?

You barely had time to gather any more thoughts as Steve placed his fingers onto your clit, rubbing circles to match his friend’s pace.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned around the demon in your mouth causing a deep growl to escape from his chest that startled you. His head quickly snapped down towards you sensing your fear and he promptly pulled his cock from your lips, pushing his body back so he could kiss you.

“It’s ok. You’re doing so good. That was a good sound, honey. Your mouth just feels so fucking amazing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”, he whispered, gently trying to comfort you.

Eddie collapsed onto your body, rolling his hips roughly, tugging down the top half of your garment as he lightly licked and sucked on your nipple with his teeth. Steve leaned down to do the same with your other breast and you whimpered as you tried to keep pumping him with your fist.

“I’m…fuck…”

Eddie’s long tongue licked up your sweaty chest to your ear as his head fell beside yours.

“When you cum, princess, scream my name. Say it—mmm—say it the way you said it before.”

As his hips pounded into yours, you felt your body transport back to that floaty place before you were blinded by that white light and pulled back to earth by what could best be described as a lion’s snarl in your ear as you came.

“Fuck! Yes, Edward! Oh my…fuck, fuck, fuck!”

His rhythm sputtered as his fingers tangled in your hair and he released ropes of his seed inside of you as he grunted loudly. As he continued to lazily thrust into you, you tried to lift his head for a kiss but he hastily grabbed your wrist and held it against the bed.

“No…no, not yet. Give…give me a minute.”

“Are you okay?”, you asked and he nodded in response.

“I don’t …want to scare you. I just…need to calm down.”

“Please, Edward. Let me see you.”

He hesitated for a moment before letting you go and hovering his face above yours. Your fingers reached up to touch the splashes of demon skin that was displaying through his human one along his jawline. Eddie had to control every muscle in his body to keep from flinching. It had been a long while since anyone other than Steve had touched his original skin in anyway let alone as tenderly as you were.

When he had lifted his head, his eyes had remained closed knowing they were his real ones and not the ones he displayed for you.

“Can you open your eyes?”

Almost as if knowing what happen, Steve placed both palms on either side of your head again, holding you in place as the other demon sighed and did as you asked.

You squeaked in terror but they were both holding you down so you couldn’t move away. His red, glowing orbs tried to look anywhere else before the shimmering suddenly stopped and you were able to look directly into his irises.

“Why…why do they glow?”

“Uh, they do that when we’re angry.”

“Are you angry with me?”

His look softened at your question and you watched as the red changed to the brown, chocolate color eyes you had come to know over the past couple of days.

“No, sweetheart. Angry at myself for not being able to hold my appearance up for you.” His nose delicately bumped yours. “Hearing you say my name and then feeling your pussy cling to me like it does… I just couldn’t control myself there.”

Craning your neck, you leaned up to kiss his lips and he allowed it as he smiled against them. “I think it’s Steve’s turn. He’s been waiting very patiently to use you.” His eyebrows coyly raised as your cunt fluttered around him.

Arms slid under you, pulling you away from Eddie, and place you on your tummy as your face hits a pillow above you. Forcefully, the demon lifts your ass in the air, groaning as he breaches your entrance with his hard, leaking cock. Laying his body flat against yours pushes him deeper into your pussy, allowing access to sensitive areas within you that no one besides them could ever hit.

“Do—mmm—can I call you by your name?”, you whimpered as he slowly rolled his hips, bringing his dick almost all the way out before slamming it back in.

“Is that what you want, honey? Do—fuck me—do you think you deserve to?” Steve’s palm wrapped around your throat as he grunted into your ear. “Do you think you’ve earned the right, little one? Hm? Answer me.”

“Yes, yes I do, Steven.”

This must have been what hit Eddie so hard; he felt it as soon as you said his name. Hearing someone use his proper name after so long poked at the beast inside of him. It awakened a side he hadn’t utilized since his time in his own realm and it felt good. He wondered if what his friend had said about that mixed with you climax would really cause him to lose control like that. He had to find out.

Pushing up to his knees, he grabbed your wrists placing them behind your back as he pounded into you.

“When you cum, you scream my name like you did his. Do you hear me?”

“Y-yes. Fuck…please make me cum.”

For a few moments, only both your heavy pants and skin hitting skin were heard in the room but all the sudden, Eddie’s soothing, husky voice cut through. At first you didn’t understand why he was so far away until you realized…he wasn’t speaking to you but to Steve.

“You think she feels good now, wait until she says your name again. I’ve never felt anything like it. I don’t know what it is, Steve, but fucking hell.” Turning your head as much as you could, you noticed how his fingers ran over the demon’s hairy chest as he leaned his chin on his shoulder. “The thought is just making me hard all over again. If I could keep my dick inside her 24/7, I would.”

“St-Steven, I’m about to—”

Yanking on your hair, he pulls your back flush against him. “You say my name with confidence, little girl.” His other arm wrap around your front, holding you tightly to him as he thrust into you faster.

“Yes, Steven. Just like that, please. Don’t stop!”

Gravity left you and again you heard an animal’s rough growl before your face was pushed into the pillow as you came. The demon behind you pumped into you a few more times as red light flashed against the headboard in front of you and his spend warmed your insides.

He grunted, trying to catch his breath as both of them fell on either side of you. As soon as their heads hit the soft material, you blinked and found yourself back in your room at home. You tried to roll over so you could see him but Steve covered your eyes once you got to your back.

“No, no, honey. I think…what you’ve already seen is enough to give you trauma for the rest of your life. Let’s not add to it.”

“Can I touch you? At least since you don’t want me to see you.”

“You promise you’ll keep your eyes closed?”

“Yes, sir. I promise.”

Gradually, his hand left your eyes but you did as he asked, keeping them squeezed tight. Taking a hold of your wrist, he guided you to his face. Like Eddie, his skin was a rough material that was exposing itself mostly on his cheeks but unlike his friend, as you shifted to his hair your fingers ran into the horns protruding from his head. Steve seemed to have a lot more trouble keeping up appearances than the other demon.

After you were done touching him, he assumed you’d recoil away but you didn’t. Instead, your roaming digits traced down to the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss that had him softly humming. As soon as you disconnected, you two opened your eyes and you were greeted with the amber ones he always displayed for you.

You curled up into your bed, reaching behind you to bring Eddie’s arm over your waist. It startled him at first but he finally settled into it as he nuzzled his face in your hair.

“Do those woods and house have any significance for you guys? Or was it just a random place?”

“The woods are from our realm. Eddie and I used to hang out there when we were growing up.”

“The house is just a house. We didn’t think you’d be comfortable on the dirty forest floor so that particular home is a combination of places we’ve been to.”

“Oh? Is considering my feelings the demon way?”, you grin as your eyes begin to drift.

“It’s our way. Remember, Y/N, we’re still here to serve you. We protect and guide you while you complete your task. Plus…”, Steve exhales as his fingers caress your cheek, eyes scanning you as you sleep. “Demons usually don’t hurt the ones they care about.”

“Ah,” Eddie chuckles softly. “So, you do feel it to? How different this go around feels.”

“She’s not like the others.”

“I know but, Steven, after she kills that last person, we’re gone. We’ll never see her again.”

“I know, Edward.”, he growls. “Let’s worry about that later. I’m sure when this is all over she’s going to end up hating us anyway.”

###########

@unfocused81 @tlclick73 @iaminlovewithdilfs @tiannamortis

@steeldaisies @goodhappyfriday @paleidiot

@fireeys-on-teller-dixon-grimes @strangerthings64

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sneakyblinders · 1 year

Text

the greatest honor

A/N: the third installment of the "grace saga"! follows directly behind chocolate cake & drunk lunch. warnings: language, sexual themes, alluding to smut but no smut, (lots of foreplay lol) not canon, fluff, pregnancy. 8.4k words. i take no credit for the gif!

It had been about a month from your drunken encounter with Grace, and you hadn’t built up enough trust again to want to see her. She’d tried calling, tried seeing you at the betting shop, but you told Lizzie, who had taken a job as the receptionist, that you weren’t in. Lizzie, thankfully, had corroborated your story and hadn’t let Grace back to see you.

Tommy had been busy with business, busier than normal. He’d had an idea, one that he was hesitant to share with you. But you beat him to it with some other, more pressing news.

You’d been sick to your stomach in the mornings, coming to the betting shop closer to lunchtime. He’d asked if you were alright the first few times, but after that, he figured you’d just grown fond of the shorter days working. He reasoned with himself, you didn’t have to work anyway. You wanted to work, wanted to make yourself feel useful, feel a part of the business.

So one afternoon on a Sunday when Tommy had come home early, you decided it was time to tell him of your speculations.

You were in your bedroom, Tommy changing into more comfortable clothes, preparing to lay down with you for a little while. You sat on the end of the bed, nervously fiddling with your hands. “Thomas?” you said, heart rate fluttering.

“Yes, love?” he said, eyeing you in the mirror as he untied his tie.

“My–my blood is late.” you say, hoping, praying, he will understand your meaning.

He makes a funny face, eyebrows scrunching for a second before relaxing, lips in a slight pout. “Do you want me to phone Doctor Hopkins?” he asked. “Maybe your iron is low.”

You let out a breath of air, hand shaking now. “Thomas,” you say quietly, standing up and walking over to him. He turns around to face you, his hands on your hips.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concern flooding his face.

“Thomas,” you say again, hoping his name would bring some comfort, tears beginning to stream down your face.

“My love,” he says softly, thumbs brushing tears away from your cheeks. “What is wrong? Are you sick?”

You look up at him, and through clouded eyes, you say, “I think there’s a baby, Thomas.”

A million emotions cross his eyes in a manner of seconds. Your husband sinks to his knees in front of you, pressing his cheek to your belly. “A baby?” he breathes.

Your fingers card through his hair. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, more tears falling down your face.

He quickly stands up, hands cupping your face, eyes blazing with intensity. “Sorry for what?” he asks, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“I–I didn’t think you’d want a child right now,” you stammer, every fear surfacing.

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, speaking softly to you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Darling, no, don’t think that,” he closes his eyes for a moment, before speaking again. “I played just as much a part in bringing that life into being as you did, my Darling. It will be the second greatest honor of my life to be your children’s father.” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Second greatest?” you ask, smiling softly up at him.

“The greatest honor is being your husband.” he presses a kiss to your lips, wrapping you fully in his arms.

When he finally pulls away from you, you look up at him, a dreamy expression on your face. “A baby, Thomas.”

He smiles down at you. “I hope the baby looks like you, my love.”

“Oh stop,” you tell him, swatting at his chest. “Any child would be lucky to look like you.”

“Why’s that?” he asked as you pulled free from his grasp, resuming your spot on the end of the bed. He continued in removing his dress shirt under your hungry gaze.

“You are the most handsome man in Birmingham, Mr. Shelby,” you tell him, a cheeky smile on your face.

“How fitting,” he said, removing his shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as he climbed on top of you on the bed. “That I am married to the most beautiful woman in all of England then,” he kisses you again. And again. And again.

The next morning you wake up slowly, stretching your limbs in bed, rays of light scattering through your room. Tommy is miraculously still in bed next to you, the morning's paper in his hands, leafing through it.

“Morning, Darling,” he rasps, cigarette dangling between his lips. You grumble a response, belly already rumbling, threatening to have you running to the bathroom. He sets his paper down on his nightstand and rubs your back soothingly as you curl into his side. “Not feeling well, eh?”

“No,” you whine. “I’m tired of feeling this way.”

He continues rubbing circles into your back. “I know, my love. I know,” you roll onto your back and look up at him. “I’m going to go eat something, come down when you’re ready and we can go to the betting shop together today?” he suggests. You nod and he presses a quick kiss to your forehead, getting out of bed and padding over to his closet where he grabs a robe before heading down the hallway and stairs to find Frances.

A few hours later you came down to his office, dressed and ready. His heart sped up in anticipation of the conversation he knew he was going to have with you today. He knew how you’d react, but your news the night before solidified his need for this plan.

He smiled softly at you, admiring your new, light blue dress that complemented your skin beautifully. “You look beautiful,” he said, rising from behind his desk and coming up to pull you against him for a kiss. “Mother of my child,” he whispered in your ear, planting an open mouthed kiss to where your neck and shoulder meet, pushing away the fabric of your dress to give him more access.

“Thomas,” you whine. “Not now, I’ve only just stopped retching.”

“Darling,” he says apprehensively. “There’s something I need to speak with you about,” you eye him and he leads you to a chair, motioning for you to sit down. “There are some very important things that need to be done in the coming weeks. And, upon reflection of your current state, I think it’s necessary to do some things differently.” he clears his throat. “I need to go to the Cheltenham Races,” your eyes light up. “To meet with Billy Kimber,” your eyes darken. “And my dear, it’s far too dangerous for you to go with me.” Your face falls. “And,” he continues, taking a deep breath. “I am going to ask Grace if she will go with me.”

A fire lights in your eyes. You rise from your chair so quickly it makes your head spin, but the anger coursing through your veins is strong. “What?” you ask him, eyes narrowed.

“I am going to ask Grace to go with me to the races.” he repeats himself and you nearly come across the desk at him.

“Thomas Shelby!” you roar. “Why in bloody fucking hell would you do that?”

“There will be a lot of important people at the races, my love, and if I can figure out if she is different around any of them, I can figure out what her motives are,” he said calmly, both palms planted firmly on his desk, arms spread wide, chest flared. “That is all.”

“Is it?” you nearly scream, turning your back to him. “Thomas, is it, really? When I came down the stairs a few weeks ago, you were standing awfully close to her.” you told him.

“Darling, how many fucking times do we have to go over this?” he said exasperated. “I am in love with you. You have every piece to my heart–hold them in your pretty hands. I cannot fathom loving anyone else!”

“I never said anything about love, Thomas.” Your arms were crossed in front of you, turning towards the door, not wanting to look at him.

He lets out an angry sigh. “So you think I have the energy to fuck someone else?” he says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, turning back around to face him.

“It means,” he says, tone dark and dangerous. “That you think I have the energy to run a company, be the patriarch of my family, come home to you, keep up with your voracious appetite for sex and fuck another woman? Is that what you think?”

Your mouth drops open, shocked at his cruel words. You remember to shut your mouth before snapping back, “Don’t forget you’re going to be a father soon. One more fucking thing to add to your list!”

You storm out of the office and walk to the library, your place of solace, and slam the door. You could hear glass rattle as Tommy slammed his hands down on his desk, shouting a “Fuck!”

You spent the rest of the afternoon in the library, alternating between being so angry with your husband and crying and reading and sleeping. You were exhausted by the end of the day.

You knew of Tommy’s reputation before the two of you were together. His brothers oftentimes teased him about it when you were first courting, before you began sleeping with one another. You’d met a few of them, actually. May Carlton, being one. Lizzie Stark, for another. They’d both been beautiful women in their own right who’d come calling after him, curious as to where he’d dropped off to. When he turned them down, proudly declaring he’d taken a woman, the look on their faces was enough to break your own heart as well as theirs. You knew what kind of a man Thomas Shelby was, because you fell in love with him. His strength, his intelligence, his unencumbered cockiness and arrogance was more than attractive. It was downright intoxicating. You, and these other women knew what he was capable of–in violence and in kindness. And to have that attention targeted specifically at you, all of the time… well, it gave you a sense of power.

And the thought of it all being taken away by one blond barmaid… it made you sick all over again.

After Tommy realized you weren’t coming out of the library any time soon, and he drained the last of his favorite bottle of whiskey, he decided to go get some more.

“Mr. Shelby,” he heard Frances call out after him. “Would you like for me to prepare supper?” she asked kindly, offering him a warm smile.

He put his coat and hat on, turning to tell her, “Just for Mrs. Shelby, please. Please make sure she eats. No matter how angry she is with me.” he tells her.

She nods. “Yes, Mr. Shelby.” She had heard the fight. Frances, truth be told, overheard more than her fair share of things she would’ve rather not heard. Whether it be fights or their loud lovemaking, or conversations Tommy has on the phone with his business associates… she’s heard far more than she wanted. But her heart grew with love for this couple more every day. In a way, she saw them as an extension of her own family, many of them scattered across the globe now, thanks to the war. When he had hired her, Tommy had promised to protect her as if she were one of his family, and so far he had fulfilled that promise.

“I’ll be back later, Frances. Don’t wait up for me.” he tells her.

“Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.” she says as he closes the door behind him.

He drives into Birmingham, rain beating against the car, wind howling. What a night for a fight, he thinks to himself. He was sick to his stomach with the venom he had spewed at you that afternoon. He rarely got into those fits with you, but sometimes you were so unreasonable. So unwilling to listen to his plan, to his logic. He wanted to scream. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and tell you that you were too fucking important to risk someone, anyone seeing you–thinking that they could get to him through you. One simple observatory look would be all it would take to see that Tommy adored you. Worshiped the ground you walked on. It was his life's greatest fear: that one day, someone would get to him by hurting you, and his world would come to a screeching halt. No. No, it was too much. He simply couldn’t–wouldn’t–risk anything happening to you.

His head was swimming by the time he reached the Garrison, which was eerily quiet. He was soaked, the deluge continuing even into Birmingham.

Grace’s eyes brightened as she heard the door creak open, eager for a patron. Her head felt light for a moment when she spotted Tommy walking through the door. He looked so dejected, worn down.

“Mr. Shelby,” she said, turning towards him. “Are you alright?”

“I just need a drink,” he says, removing his hat and stalking towards the bar.

“Should I leave you alone?” she asks.

He hesitates, warring within himself. “I came here for company,” he says, instantly feeling a bitter pang in his stomach. “Where’s Harry?” he asks.

“He took the night off.” Grace tells him. She hands him a glass of whiskey, and he swallows it down in one gulp. “How’s your beautiful wife?” Grace asks.

He slams the glass down on the table and sighs, leaning back in his chair. “She’s mad as hell,” he tells her, eyes not leaving her face.

“About what?” she asks, walking back towards the bar.

“You know–” he avoids her question. “In France, I never imagined I’d have a wife,” he chuckles to himself. “Never thought I’d have a wife like mine. No. I never did,” he paused, pouring himself another drink.

“But you have her,” she says softly, eyeing him from her position behind the bar.

He closed his eyes momentarily, reliving the moment of intense rage his wife had unleashed towards him that afternoon, and his cruel words that followed. “For now,” he whispers. “Until she realizes her world would be better without me.” he says to himself.

Grace worries her bottom lip between her teeth. A moment of vulnerability. “Could I sing to you?”

“Only if you get up in a chair and act like you’re performing,” he says, only half joking. But she does. She comes back around the bar and climbs up in a chair, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Happy or sad?” she asks.

He thinks for a moment. “Sad.” he replies.

“Alright, but I will warn you,” she says, a small smile on her face. “It’ll break your heart.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t,” she cocks her head to the side slightly. “My wife holds my heart in her hands—for safekeeping.”

The small smile on her lips falls. “Sad it is then,” she says, before beginning her song.

Tommy couldn’t focus on the song. Couldn’t focus on thinking of anything but returning home to you, telling you he was sorry. So sorry. She finished her song and he said, “I need you to dig out a dress, Grace.”

“A dress?” she asks.

“I’d like to take you to the Cheltenham Races.”

And for a brief moment, Grace thought she had won.

You had sat in the library until you heard the front door slam, and a few minutes later, you heard Frances come down the hall. “Mrs. Shelby,” she said softly, opening the door cautiously. “Mrs. Shelby, I’m making supper, please eat, love.” she said.

You hadn’t the heart to tell her no. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, Frances.” you told her.

And you were. You and Frances ate dinner together in a comfortable, familiar silence. “Go on to bed after the dishes are done, please, Frances.” you tell her after thanking her for dinner.

You draw a bath upstairs, soaking until your skin prunes. Tommy still wasn’t home when the grandfather clock in the foyer struck eleven, or midnight.

By one, he was practically crawling up the steps, soaked from the rain. He was missing you, craving your touch. Wanting nothing more than to tell you how sorry he was. He stripped out of his clothes, letting them fall in a pile on the bathroom floor with a wet smack before coming to your shared bedroom in hopes you wouldn’t wake up and shove him out of the warmth of the bed.

You felt him get into bed, his side dipping down under his weight. You could smell the alcohol and the rain on him. You wondered if he had gone to her. Instead of facing him, you pretended to be asleep. He cautiously spread an arm towards you, his thumb gently stroking your arm.

“Light of my life,” he whispered. “Everything that is good to me,” you could hear him sniffle. “I wish I could be a better man for you.”

Your heart broke, hearing your husband's broken heart through his voice.

The next morning, Tommy woke up before you did, as usual, but got out of bed as soon as he woke up, not yet ready to face your hurt and devastation. He was off to the betting shop office before the sun rose. Polly was stunned to see him there so early.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing, Pol.” he said, avoiding his aunt's questions.

“Tommy,” she said harshly. “What happened?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m going to lose her, Pol.” he said.

Her face fell. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“She doesn’t deserve me,” he said, shaking his head. “She deserves better than me, than this life. This piss-poor excuse for a life I’m giving her.”

Polly shook her head. “No, no, Tommy, it’s not true. She loves you.”

“She shouldn’t!” he yelled. His mind wandered to the baby and tears flooded his eyes, which he quickly brushed away.

“Well, she does. You’re both fools in love with one another, I’ve never seen such. Now whatever it was, go home, kiss her, and make up. You cannot be sulking around here all day. You’re unbearable.”

She left his office, leaving him to think.

You were in the living room, in front of the fire, just beginning a new knitting project for the baby, you’d decided, when Tommy burst through the door, chest heaving. “Thomas?” you ask.

“Angel,” he breathes, walking over to your seat on the sofa, sinking to his knees and burying his face in your lap. He stays there for a moment, inhaling you, taking in how you feel in his hands. “You’re still here,” he says to himself, almost as a reassurance.

“I’m here,” you tell him, running your fingers through his hair.

He lifts his head up to look at you, eyes red. “I’m sorry,” he says, breathing still erratic. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. You guide him up to sitting next to you on the sofa and he buries his head in your chest.

“Thomas,” you say gently. “Thomas, it’s alright, we’re going to fight.”

“I should’ve never said those things to you, I’m sorry.” he says again, as you lay back against the couch. He lays against you, head on your chest, a hand gently on your belly.

“I’m sorry, too, my love.” you tell him, carding your fingers through his hair again. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your cleavage.

He took a deep breath, before adding, “But I am still not going to take you to the races.”

Your face fell, jaw locking, anger flaring. “But why her? Why can’t you take Polly or Ada?” you ask.

“Trust me?” he said, eyes pleading with you. “Trust me, Darling.”

Grace readied herself for the races, ensuring every detail of her appearance was perfect. If she wanted to make any progress with Tommy, she knew she would have to wear at his senses. And if by looking at his wife was any indication, it was easiest to wear at his senses first through his eyes.

She had selected a red dress and ensured her hair was just right, powdering her face. She met him at the betting shop, where she saw him kissing his wife through the front window. They were pulled flush against each other, his hands on her hips, smiling into the kiss, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Grace had never known romantic love of that intensity. Had never truly known that it had existed. But after seeing the Shelby’s–she knew it was real. Grace thought Thomas’ love for his wife was partly the reason she was unfortunately attracted to him. Not all of her undercover work was truly an act, much to Inspector Campbell’s dismay. She found how a hardened gangster, a decorated veteran of the Crown could be so harsh with everyone else, but turn to complete mush in his wifes pretty hands in a matter of seconds was rather—romantic.

She was, in short, jealous of Mrs. Shelby. She had this great love, this earth-shattering connection with a man who was equally as besotted with her as she was with him. She was from a good, normal family, she had researched, although her great grandmother, who had only recently passed away, was a dowager viscountess in the English countryside, who had allowed her son, Mrs. Shelby’s grandfather, to forfeit his title and estate for love. She was remarkably beautiful and devastatingly intelligent–a match for Tommy in all ways. She was gentle and kind to balance his roughness and brutishness.

Her weakness existed in her kindness, and as Grace had discovered, in her loneliness. She had uprooted her life in London to move into the country with Tommy, sacrificing many friends and the opportunity to be close to her family. Her family was reluctant to accept Tommy, even almost a year into the marriage. Mrs. Shelby’s sister, Emile, was the most reluctant as of late, she had confessed to Grace during their lunch.

She continued to watch them through the window. He said something in her ear which caused her to swat at his chest, both of them laughing, his hand on her belly. Grace’s mind turned as he walked out of the betting shop, placing his hat on his head.

“Morning, Miss Burgess,” he said, walking past her, leading her to the car.

“Mr. Shelby,” she said shortly. They rode in silence for a while before she decided to speak. “So why didn’t you ask your wife to join you?”

Tommy took a deep breath in, searching for a cigarette in his pocket. “My wife is far too precious to me, Miss Burgess,” he lit the cigarette, throwing the match out the window. “There are dangerous men who will be at these races, and I cannot risk any of them setting his sights on her.”

“So, why me?” she asked.

He exhaled smoke. “If they want something to bargain with, Grace,” he paused. “You’re my bargaining chip.”

Her eyes widened, clutching her purse. “What do you mean?” she asked.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I need what I need, Grace, and I cannot use my wife as a bargaining piece. You understand what I mean, yeah?”

Her brow furrowed, offended. “What does that make me?”

He shrugged again. “A barmaid who works for me. A bargaining chip.”

“And your wife was okay with this plan?” she asked.

“Oh, not in the slightest.” He scoffed.

“Because we’re friends?” Grace offered.

“Because she doesn’t trust you.” he said, jaw clenched.

Grace stammered, heart fluttering in her chest. “Why? What have I done to violate her trust?”

“Well, Grace, you take her to lunch and get her drunk, ask far too many questions and then you show up at our home unannounced, touch her husband and leave with little to no explanation about where you found out where we lived?”

She looked at her hands in her lap. How could she have been so careless? “People in Birmingham know where you live, it’s not a secret.” she said quietly.

“Hm,” Tommy said absentmindedly, throwing the butt of his cigarette out the window.

That day, Tommy had asked you to go to the Garrison and look over the figures. Grace had started helping Arthur with some of the figures over the last month, and he wanted you to ensure she wasn’t fudging any numbers.

You walked in the bar and walked straight up to Tommy’s office, exhaling a sigh of relief when you were able to reach your destination with no interference. You sat down at his desk and unlocked the right drawers, pulling ledgers and ink pens from the drawers.

You sat and worked through the ledgers and logs, invoices and receipts for a few hours. You hadn’t realized how late it was until you heard the bustle of the crowd beneath you, and a gentle knock on the door.

“Mrs. Shelby?” you recognized the voice as Caleb’s voice–the young man who thought he was in love with you. You opened the door. “Good evening, Mrs. Shelby,” he said, giving you a boyish grin, holding his hat in his hands. “You look beautiful,” he added.

“Thank you, Caleb,” you smiled softly at him. “Is everything okay?” you asked as he stood in the doorway, gawking.

“Well, I had noticed something and I wanted to tell you, in case it was important.” he said, face turning anxious.

“Oh, absolutely, Caleb, come in.” you tell him, ushering him in the office and offering him a seat.

He looked around at the wooden and gilded office in awe before sitting down in the soft leather seat across from you. “This is Mr. Shelby’s office?” he asked.

“Yes,” you say, a sweet smile on your face.

“He’s a lucky man,” he breathes, eyeing a picture of you on your wedding day sitting on the desk. His puppy love for you was endearing. Tommy had no doubt that if he keeled over the next day, Caleb would propose as soon as the funeral was over, and he had given you his permission, in jest, to accept the proposal. You’d elbowed him in the ribs, telling him to give him a break, he was a good young man from a good family, and only sixteen.

“You said you had something to tell me, Caleb?” you lead, trying to get the young man to focus.

“Oh, yes,” he said, sitting up straight. “I hope you don’t see this as interfering where it’s not my business, but I wouldn’t want to not tell you and something happen to your or Mr. Shelby,” he said sweetly. “The new barmaid–she’s odd.” he said simply.

“How so, Caleb?” you ask, leaning in towards him.

“Well–a week or so ago, Mr. Shelby had a meeting in the snug with his family–I think you weren’t feeling well, so you weren’t there–” he added. “But she was standing very close to the windows of the snug, and at one point almost had her ear pressed against the glass, like she was listening in to what they were saying,” your heart rate began to speed up. “And then she has kept pestering Arthur to have a phone installed. Do you think she has a lover she wants to phone?” he asked, blushing. “I shouldn’t have said that, forgive me.”

You chuckle. “Don’t apologize, Caleb,” you tell him. “How do you know this?”

He pressed his lips together, not meeting your eyes before saying, “I listen to a lot of talk, Mrs. Shelby,” he paused, looking at you. “Not a lot of people here talk to me, on account of me being so young and all, so, I just listen to the conversation, and Arthur, well, he can be loud.”

You chuckle. “Yes, he can be.”

“I hope you don’t find me overstepping in any way.” he said, eager for your approval of his divulgence of the information.

“Not at all, Caleb. I would like for you to tell my husband what you’ve told me, though, please. We could arrange for the three of us to have dinner, maybe?” you offer.

His ears perk at the prospect. “Meet with Mr. Shelby?” he asks.

“Yes, if that would be alright.”

He blushes. “My mother may not approve of me dining with who she calls the devil, but I’d gladly accept, Mrs. Shelby,” his expression changes quickly. “But I don’t think he’s the devil. I don’t think a woman like you would’ve married the devil.”

“You’re sweet, Caleb.” you tell him, smiling at him.

He stands. “Well, thank you for letting me get that off my chest. I hope I’ve helped in some–odd way.” he said. “Have a good night, Mrs. Shelby,” he said.

“Have a good night, Caleb.” you tell him as he shows himself out of the office.

Tommy and Grace were back in the car, on the way back to Birmingham, the ride tense and quiet.

Tommy knew he had upset her, which wasn’t exactly his intention, but he had little regard for other people's feelings at the moment. He had accomplished exactly what he had set out to do at the Cheltenham races, and his mind was soaring.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, a silent tear rolling down her cheek.

Tommy sighed, not meeting her gaze. “I told you, you were to be a bargaining piece.”

“You never told me I’d have to be alone with a man like Billy Kimber!” she yelled.

“I told you, I couldn’t take my wife and use her as a bargaining piece for these exact reasons–”

“So you take me, and have me pose as your whore instead of your beloved wife?” she spat, angry.

“Yes,” he told her. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I’d rather have people think I keep whores than for men like Billy Kimber to think he can take advantage of my wife. That’s exactly it, Grace.” he said.

Grace’s mind whirred with jealousy, anger, hurt, confusion. While she had been able to convince Kimber to not take her, she’d still had to get on her knees in front of him while he spewed hateful, awful, degrading things to her. Tommy had interrupted, barging through the door and falsely accusing her of being a whore with the clap. At the very last second.

“It was what had to be done,” She chewed the inside of her lip. “I will see to it that Arthur adds another ten pounds to your pay this week.”

She scoffed. “You think money will make this all just go away?”

Tommy sighed again, fatigued by this interaction. “It’s all I have to give.”

“That’s not true,” she said quietly.

He chuckled to himself in disbelief. “What do I have that you could possibly want?” he asked.

“What is all of this for? That is what I want to know! What all of this humiliation that I have suffered at no expense to you is for!” she cried out, tears freely falling down her face.

“Family business,” he rasped.

And they left it at that.

When Tommy finally returned home that evening, you were waiting for him in the front room, bursting, waiting to tell him of what Caleb had told you. “My love,” he greeted you, shaking the rain off his hat, hanging it on the rack as you jaunted over to him to help him remove his coat from his shoulders.

“Hello!” you beamed, reaching up on tiptoes, your feet bare, to kiss him.

“You’re awfully chipper,” he smiled, hands on your hips.

“I have something to tell you,” you tell him, looking up at him through your thick, dark lashes. “Are you hungry?” you ask, face immediately turning to concern.

“A little, but it can wait.” he said, smiling softly at you, cupping your face in his hands, rubbing his thumb over your cheek in soft, gentle strokes.

“Tell me how the races went first,” you tell him.

You blush under his attention, turning to lead him to the front room, to the sofa. He wants to be close to you, wants to breathe you in. He pulls you onto his lap, pressing kisses to the side of your throat, hands gently holding you against him. “It can wait,” he tells you, teeth lightly skimming over the sensitive skin of your throat. What did you want to tell me, Darling?” he asks, eyes closed, lips pressed against your throat.

“Well,” a hand lifts to run through his hair. “I went to the Garrison to look over the books like you’d asked,” you begin to tell him. He gently nips at the skin of your neck and you giggle. “Thomas, this is serious!” you giggle again, his hands moving to your bum to knead your flesh.

“Mm,” he muses, lips pressing kisses farther down your neck. “So is this,” he smirks against your skin.

“Well,” you trudge on anyway, hoping what you have to say will pull him from his advances. “I was there for a few hours, and then Caleb knocked on the office door,” Tommy laid you down on the sofa.

“Go on,” he tells you, pulling the neckline of your dress down to press kisses to your cleavage.

“And–” he was making it hard for you to concentrate, hands winding behind your back to undo the snaps of your dress. “Thomas–” you whine as his fingers free the dress from your frame, allowing him to pull it down, bunching at your waist. He hungrily eyes your lace bra, the one he’d brought you back from London a few weeks back.

“You’re a sight,” he breathes, looking down at you, that pretty flush you get when he’s arousing you spreading all over your chest and face.

“Thomas–” you try to protest but before you can, he’s reaching behind your back again, unclasping your bra.

“Can’t I seduce my wife after a long, tortuous day, hm?”’ he asks, discarding your lace bra to the floor.

You smirk at him. “You may if you shut the doors so we don’t subject Frances to more than she ought to hear.” you tell him.

He smirks, jumping off you to close the French doors to the front room.

When Tommy was thoroughly satiated, and deemed you were as wrung out as you’d like to be, he pulled his pants on, smirking as you pulled his shirt on over your shoulders. Your hair was a mess, lipstick smudged and the flush hadn’t left your skin, but this was his favorite way to see you.

You wadded up the discarded clothes that were on the floor, tossing him his undershirt to pull over his shoulders. “Frances ought not to clean up after us this much,” you tell him, hugging the clothes to your chest in an attempt to hide your breasts from beneath Tommy’s shirt.

“You’re right, love,” he tells you, walking over to where he’d tossed a pillow onto the floor, setting it back on the couch. He stalks over to you, hungry look still in his eyes. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite, Mrs. Shelby,” he tells you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m going to go get some dinner, and I’ll join you in the bath after, eh?” he said, delivering a stinging swat to your backside.

You blink at the contact, desire stirring within you once more. “Yes, Sir,” you tease.

He bites his lip, groaning, dropping his head to your shoulder. “You awful woman,” he teases, groaning into your skin. “You know how wild that makes me,” he says, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh.

“Yes,” you smile. “That’s why I say it.”

He pulls away from you. “Go draw the bath, Darling, I’ll be up soon.”

Frances smiles knowingly at Tommy when he walks into the kitchen. “Mr. Shelby,” she greets.

“Frances,” he replies, feeling out of place with how he was dressed. His feet were bare, and suddenly he was all too aware of how cold he was, the cold tile on the floor of the kitchen making him shiver. Scout paced back and forth in front of the back door. He opened it, letting her out, a cold wind blowing in behind her.

“Chicken stew for dinner, Mr. Shelby,” she says, pulling a bowl out of the warm oven and adding a piece of bread onto a plate, setting it on the small table in the kitchen for him.

“Thank you, Frances.” he breathes, sitting down at the table, nearly inhaling every bite of food.

“Is Mrs. Shelby alright?” Frances asks, back turned to him, standing at the sink, washing the last few dishes. She watches as Scout patrols the back of the property, bounding after a rabbit.

“Yes, she is.” Tommy replied, taking a drink of his whiskey.

“She’s been sick in the mornings, no?” Frances asked.

Tommy sighed. “There’s a baby, Frances.”

A smile grew on her face. “That’s wonderful, Mr. Shelby!” she said.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” he told her, pushing his bowl away from him, finished.

Frances walked over to the table, taking his empty bowl. She gave him a sympathetic look. “Mr. Shelby, if I may,” she paused, looking for a sign of approval from him. He nodded. “I believe you will be a wonderful father, if how you treat your wife is any indication,” he looked up at her with a puzzled expression. “I’ve worked for many families, Mr. Shelby, for nearly thirty years now,” she laid a hand on his shoulder. “And I’ve never been with a man and a wife with so much love between them. Most men treat their wives horribly, mistresses and alcohol and anger they never learned to control,” she says. “But you treat your wife like gold, and I know you will treat a baby no differently. You will be a good father.” she tells him.

He nods, drinking the rest of his whiskey down. “Thank you, Frances.”

Tommy came up to the bathroom and nearly fainted at the sight before him. You were in the bath, surrounded by bubbles, the scent of rose and jasmine in the air. You lifted a leg out of the bubbles, pointing your toes at him, a naughty smirk on your lips. He loved your legs.

“Mrs. Shelby,” he rasped, shutting the door behind himself. “I’m rather cold, would you care to warm me?” he asked, removing his undershirt and trousers, waiting at the edge of the bath for you to make up your mind.

His mouth was practically watering at the sight of you. “Come in,” you smile sweetly, moving forward in the tub so he could squeeze in behind you. You giggle as he sloshes water over the sides, settling in behind you, leaning you back against him, his arms wrapping around your body.

“What were you trying to tell me earlier, my love?” he asked.

“Oh before you seduced me?” you giggle, hands intertwining with his.

“Yes.” he says, a smirk on his lips.

“Caleb told me something very interesting, and I’d like for him to tell you himself, so I invited him for dinner. Would tomorrow evening be okay?” you ask.

He sighed. “You’re a cruel woman, you know?” he played with you.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Playing with the poor boy’s heart,” he says. “Of course, I don’t blame him for being infatuated with you, but inviting him to dinner, my dear,” he let out a disapproving ‘tsk’ sound. “You’re really just playing with his heartstrings.”

“Thomas,” you elbow him in the ribs, earning a chuckle from him. “He knows I am yours,”

“As does everyone in Birmingham,” he jested, toying with your diamond ring.

“I think he only wishes to try and protect us.” you tell him.

“You mean protect you,” he corrects gently. “He could care less if I was shot tomorrow. It’d give him an in to be with you.” he laughed and you elbowed him again.

“Thomas, I’m serious. I think he really does mean well.”

He sighed again. “I know, Darling, I’m only joking,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “He is rather loyal.” his wheels began to turn. “Like a–like a loyal dog.”

“Thomas!” you squeal, squeezing his thigh under the water. “Don’t be unkind, please!”

“Okay, alright, my dear, I’m sorry. I will refrain for making any more jokes about your loyal puppy.”

“Thomas!” you chide, turning around gently in the tub, back against the other end, facing him, your feet resting on his chest.

He takes one of your feet in his hands, thumbs moving in gentle circles. “If my punishment is getting a better look at your legs, I’m alright with it.” he smirks.

You shake your head, a look of disbelief on your face. “You’re ridiculous, Thomas,” you giggle as he switches to massaging your other foot. You bite the inside of your cheek, thoughts running rampant of how your husband's day went. “Did she try anything today? Try to get you to pull over and fuck her on the side of the road?”

Tommy’s thumbs dug deeper into the sole of your foot. “My love,” he pauses, his eyes shifting to a darker blue. “How many times do I have to tell you,” he pressed a kiss to your ankle. “That I am all yours?”

“But–she’s new and beautiful and interesting,” you counter.

He presses a kiss to your calf, eyes continuing to darken. “I think,” his hands slide up your leg to your thigh, hands kneading the soft flesh. “One of the most wonderful things about marriage is the idea of continually learning about one's spouse,” he continued, hands moving up your torso to cup your breasts. “I am still learning things about you, every day,” he says, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Like how your hair lightens in the summer,” a kiss to your eyelid. “And how you detest when I sleep facing you because I am a mouth breather in my sleep,” you giggle. “And how good you are with plants,” he reminded you, bringing your thoughts to your flower garden you’d planted last spring. “And I think something I am most excited about, with being married to you, is the adventure of continually learning and knowing more about you as you change. As we both grow older and maybe wiser,” he chuckles and you roll your eyes. “I will never tire of you,” he brings your hands to his lips, pressing kisses to your knuckles. “You will always be beautiful and I would pick you every time, out of any crowd of women to be mine.”

Tears are in your eyes as he pulls you closer, more water spilling over the sides of the tub. “I love you, Thomas Shelby,” you tell him as he presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, “The only thing in this life that I am sure of. I love you.”

A round of gentle pleasure later, you and Tommy emerge from the now cold bathwater, both thoroughly pruney, but clean. He towels the both of you off before carrying you to bed. Frances had let Scout back in before she had gone to bed, and Scout followed Tommy down the hall to your bedroom, where she laid outside the door after he shut it behind the two of you.

He lays you in bed, settling you under the covers before walking over to the fire and adding another log to it. “I will ask Caleb to dinner tomorrow, my love. Please go over the menu with Frances in the morning.”

“Okay,” you sigh, curling into the covers.

Tommy slides in bed next to you and you subconsciously move closer to him, already drifting off.

The next morning, Tommy drove to town, wanting to pay Caleb a visit at the factory he worked in. He knew their first break would be around nine, and he made it just in time before he had to be at the betting shop.

“Caleb St. Clair!” he called out, the young man smoking a cigarette on the steps of the factory.

“Mr. Shelby,” Caleb said surprised, standing to his feet immediately. His heart raced in terror, fearful he had overstepped the night before.

“I hear you came to pay my wife a visit yesterday,” Tommy said, narrowing his eyes at the young man, lighting a cigarette.

“I only wished to help, Sir.” Caleb said.

Tommy nodded, tossing the match into a puddle near their feet. “I know, boy. My wife trusts you, and she’s asked that we invite you to dinner this evening at our home, so you can relay this very important information to me yourself.”

“I just–”

“Don’t want anything to happen to her?” Tommy finished, a blush spreading over Caleb's cheeks. “Me either. Which is why you’ll be at our home by seven this evening, Mr. St. Clair,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Try not to ogle at her too much, will you?” he says, a faint smirk on his lips.

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Shelby.” Caleb says, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Seven o’clock tonight!” Tommy said, walking away, back towards his car.

“I’ll be there!”

Seven o’clock sharp, there was a knock on the door. Tommy answered the door. “Come in,” he said, opening the door. Caleb stepped over the threshold and was in awe. He looked at the crystal chandelier hanging above them, the portraits of Thomas and Mrs. Shelby hung on the walls in gilded frames, photos of Tommy’s prizewinning horses scattered throughout the photos of the two of them. “Welcome to our home, Caleb.”

Caleb was pulled from his trance, the grandfather clock behind him striking seven. At that moment, you descended down the staircase, taking both of their breath away. You wore a beautiful light blue dress with a modest neckline that hugged your hips. You smiled at Tommy, who gave you the most tender look.

“Caleb,” you greeted him as Tommy took your hand as you came down the last two steps. “I’m so glad you could join us.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Caleb told you, holding his hat in his hands.

You led them to the dining room, where Frances had set a beautiful table. The food was spread out on the table, and no sign of Frances. You smiled as Tommy pulled out your chair for you, on his right. Tommy sat at the head of the table, with Caleb directly across from you.

“Now,” Tommy said after everyone had a hearty helping of roast, vegetables, bread and cheese on their plates. “Please repeat the story you told my wife, Caleb.” he said, setting his napkin in his lap. Caleb nervously followed suit, mouth watering at the spread on his plate.

Caleb repeated his story, word for word, just as he had told you, in between bites of the roast.

After Caleb’s story was finished, Tommy sat back and thought for a moment. He knew you’d be opposed to what he was going to ask next, but knew you wouldn’t challenge him in front of your guest. “Caleb,” Tommy said. The young man looked at him, eyes wide. “How would you like to work for me?”

You nearly dropped your fork, eyes wide. A surprised expression passed over Caleb’s features. “How would I work for you, Mr. Shelby?” he asked.

“I would ask that you keep an ear out for things like this, and report back to me, in an effort to keep my wife safe,” he started. “I’ll pay you well,” he says. “But we can discuss that as gentlemen,” he eyed you apprehensively. You were trying desperately to not let your mouth drop open.

“I would like to help, Mr. Shelby.” Caleb said.

“Good!” Tommy said. “Eat all you’d like, there’s plenty. Take some home to your mother and sisters if you’d like.” he said.

After everyone had finished eating, Tommy excused himself and Caleb to his office to discuss pay. You sat in the front room, fuming. Caleb was a sweet, innocent boy. He didn’t deserve to be dragged to this world.

Tommy and Caleb emerged from his office about fifteen minutes later, shaking hands. “Good man,” Tommy told him, leading him to the front door.

“Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Shelby,” Caleb said, eyeing you from the front door.

“You’re most welcome, Caleb.” you say, smiling at him.

He smiles that embarrassed smile of his, and turns for the door. “Simmons will take you home, it’s too long a walk for this late at night.” Tommy told Caleb, Simmons at the front of the house with the car. Before Caleb could protest, Tommy held up a hand. “It’s no trouble at all. Good night, Caleb.”

You scowled at your husband, disbelief and dread filling your body. “I cannot believe you, Thomas Shelby.” you tell him, standing up to move away from him when he got close to you.

“What do you mean?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“You cannot manipulate everyone, Thomas!” you yell.

“My love,” he says, the tone of his voice even. “He wants to help us, help you, and we need unsuspecting ears and eyes everywhere, especially with the baby,” he tries to reason with you.

“He’s a good boy, Thomas!” you scream. “His mothers only son, and you’re going to get him killed!”

Tommy sighed. “Dearest, it’s going to be alright. No one will suspect him.”

“And what if they do? What then, Thomas?” you ask.

“If something happens to him,” he says gently. “We will set up an account for his mother and sisters. They will be taken care of.”

Caleb admitted to Tommy that he had lost his father in the war. He was his family’s primary source of income. Tommy vowed to him that he would pay him well, and pay him weekly.

“Thomas,” you began to cry. “This is all too much,” you say.

He walks over to you, apprehensively, pulling you into his chest. “He agreed to it, my love. Everything will be alright. He won’t be in danger unless he puts himself in danger. He will be alright.”

“It won’t be fair to his mother.” you say, hands on Tommy’s chest.

“Then would you like for me to pay her, too?” he asks, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I’d rather you have just left them alone.” you sniffle.

He tightens his grip on you. “I know, my love, but sometimes we must do unpleasant things to protect what we hold most precious.”

Your heart sinks as you wonder, what the root of this was all really about.

#tommy shelby x reader #tom shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #sneakyblinders #my au <3 #peaky fookin blinders #peakywomen #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine

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kimsohn · 9 months

Text

𓇼 10:21 pm

pairing . eric x gn!reader about . 753 words, fluff warnings . alludes to an argument (but it's all jokes) tagging . @sohnric @gfksn @invuwrld

"are you still mad at me?"

you look up from your phone, coming face-to-face with your boyfriend who's taken a seat in front of you. he has a pout on his stupid, beautiful face that constantly reminds you of a cute puppy dog, but you remind yourself to reel your emotions in and not succumb to his adorable expressions.

"yes."

"does this mean i have to sleep on the couch tonight?"

you nod, afraid that you'll give in if you open your mouth once more.

"okay. goodnight then," he whispers, sounding so dejected that you want to pull him close and hug him tight.

"goodnight."

as he shuts the door behind him, you sigh, pulling the bedsheets over your face. technically, you don't need to be so harsh with him for going live when you're in class, but it's been happening too often and you need to put him in his place. even if his place is on the couch.

you don't tell him that his lives are some of the only ways you can connect with him during his busy schedule. just seeing him talk in real-time, even if it's through a screen filtered to millions of fans, is enough for you. however, it's been increasingly hard to do so when he goes live when you're busy, despite him already knowing your schedule, and you miss seeing his pretty face every day.

not that you'd ever tell him that, of course. he doesn't need any more of a reason to tease you.

you shift around in bed for a while, trying to fall asleep. you never realized how cold your shared room is, or how empty the bed seems without him there. even when he comes home late at night from work, you fidget in restless sleep until he wraps an arm around you and brings you in close.

it's only been five minutes and you're already regretting your choice. however, you're a little too petty to retract your decision, so you mentally prepare yourself for the long night ahead.

well, at least until the door opens.

"baby? are you asleep?"

you sit up straight, the bedsheets ruffling around you as you spot eric standing at the door. the yellow light peeks through the gap, shining softly on his face, and you suddenly feel as if you're falling in love with him all over again with his mussed-up hair and comfortable hoodie.

"i'm not. what's wrong?" you whisper, your voice thick from (trying to) sleep.

he shuffles slightly, playing with the ends of his sleeves as you note the discomfort on his face.

"the couch is really uncomfortable."

you sigh, annoyed, although some part of you is jumping for joy at the implications of his words.

"eric—"

"i promise i won't roll over to your side. i won't even touch you, i swear! we can put pillows between us and i won't even talk to you."

already, you're shifting to the side and patting the bed. you hope he doesn't notice how your face lights up in the darkness of the room, but you have a slight inkling that he knows anyway.

he grins, muttering words of gratitude as he jumps into the space beside you. he puts a pillow in between when he sees you rolling your eyes, but he lies down hugging it as if it's a teddy bear.

as you both settle down to sleep, the drowsiness automatically comes to you as if it were there all along. you know this is eric's effect on you, one of many that he's brought into your life, and although it's slightly annoying at times, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"i'm sorry again," eric blurts, watching as you turn over so you can face him, "i didn't know you kept up with my lives like that. i'll make sure i plan them with your schedule in mind."

"of course i watch your lives, eric, i'm literally dating you. i guess you're forgiven though, but we still have to keep the pillow."

he laughs, and you find yourself grinning, burrowing your face into the sheets.

"question, though. was the sofa actually that uncomfortable? if it was, we might need to buy a new one."

"no, it wasn't. i just wanted to sleep next to you."

"i'm five seconds away from kicking you out, eric."

"no! don't!" he pleads, reaching over to press kisses into your face, "we are soulmates, after all. we need each other, even if it's just to sleep."

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elvisabutler · 2 years

Text

i'm on my knees and i can't wait to taste your rain

summary: austin is such a good boy for his mama. the best of boys especially at the oscars. rating: m. word count: 1943 ( blurbs, i said. blurbs. ) warnings: mommy kink. oral ( f ). dom/sub dynamic. anxiety attacks being alluded to as well as general anxiety. public play. vibrating cockring. orgasm control. the oscars? author's note: so. welcome to day three of kinktober: mommy kink with austin. if i haven't made it very clear, i love writing sub austin so much. you could give me a million prompts of it and i'd enjoy writing this man being a good boy. absolute puppy of a man, y'all. also treat me nice fans, peep me dropping sub austin in another closet/bathroom. i'm really enjoying kinktober, y'all. if you knew the things i had up my sleeves. also gif credit to @karamelcoveredolicity who blessed us all with this.

Austin is a good boy, a good man, a good puppy. He's polite to a fault, hardworking and one of the kindest souls you have every had the pleasure of knowing. Austin is gorgeous but seems to enjoy pretending he isn't, he seems to enjoy pretending that if acting doesn't pan out he could model. It'd be annoying on anyone but Austin.

But Austin is also one of the more anxious people you've met. He stays too much in his own head and can't always get himself out of it. You realize this when he's so nervous for an interview that he's shaking and no matter what trick or technique he tried he couldn't calm himself. The only thing that had worked was your hands on his shoulders telling he'd be okay over and over until you had heard him say "I heard you, mama" softly. The phrase sends such a shock to your system that you drop your hands so quickly you'd have thought Austin's skin was on fire. Austin's eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something- anything- to explain himself before he's dragged to the proper backstage. You weren't his mama, you had done something like that other people, but to Austin? No, that hadn't crossed your mind. You weren't sure if you could do it. You stay in the dressing room until Austin comes back in. His lower lip is essentially completely in his mouth has he gnaws on it. You frown realizing just how far he's back in his head looking at you.

"Tell mama what's wrong, baby boy." You whisper as you stand up and take his hands in your own.

The relief on his face at your words and the way he sags against your body tell you that you made the right choice with your words that night. You learned just how much he needed a mama like you, someone to help him, someone to be there for him when others wouldn't be or wouldn't do. It made you wonder why you ever thought you couldn't do this with him. As he said that night and so many other nights in your lap.

"I think you might have been made just for me. Just to be my mama and to live your own life."

He only ever has said it in your lap, you never press about it otherwise.

Oscar season was going to be rough no matter what, you both knew this. It's why you had made sure that your schedule- as packed as it normally was at the beginning of the year was clear. It was an adjustment, telling your job that yes, you needed this time blocked off and if anyone needed your help you'd be available to talk but not for extensive amounts of time. You didn't usually attach conditions to your relationship with Austin, either as his mama or as his girlfriend but you had asked him to after award season was done to respect the fact that you were going to basically be living at the office. He had agreed with a bit of a pouty lip, but he was an adult, he could handle it.

It's the night of the ceremony and you specifically had told Austin that while it was the most important night of his life, he also needed to be in the moment enough to enjoy it. The two of you had come up with the idea of the vibrating cockring. By now- months from that interview you had learned that controlling when Austin could orgasm- controlling how hard his cock could be- was the best way to ensure he stayed focused and in the moment with you. You know you're not famous enough to be next to him in the cast pictures, you're not famous at all really but you still try and stay close, the remote for his cock ring in the pocket of your dress. It's in one of the photos on the red carpet that you see his hand shaking behind Priscilla's back and you turn up the vibration setting one level.

You can hear his intake of breath from a distance and you see his hand has stopped shaking before you realize that he's walking over to you with eyes that have had their pupils overtake most of the iris. His hand moves to grab your arm in an attempt to pull you close enough for him to whisper in your ear.

"Mama, I can't- you can't do that when I'm by Priscilla, she thought something was wrong." He practically hisses. There's no malice in his tone just worry that he exposed himself.

You smile for the cameras that are taking both of your pictures before leaning in to his ear and turning the vibration up one more level. "I'm your mama, baby boy, I can do it when I want. You were shaking. You needed it."

He opens his mouth to deny it before you raise your eyebrows and tilt your head just so, a sign that he knows means you will accept no arguments from him. Instead he shuts his mouth and moves to kiss you, something he knows the camera will enjoy. Austin Butler, man of the hour, the one who's likely to be the only one to take on Brendan Fraser for the best actor prize, kissing his lawyer girlfriend. He grabs your face as he's done a million times, both hands cupping your cheeks and you for once mirror him in front of the cameras, your own hands moving to cup his cheeks. He nuzzles into them and you can't help the soft smile that crosses your lips as you kiss him when you feel it.

"Color, baby boy?" You ask as you pull away.

"Green." A beat, and a murmur. "Need you though, mama. Need to taste your pussy when we go in. Please?"

You chuckle softly as you pull away. "Be good and we'll see."

Being good was a challenge, it shouldn't have been but you decided to up the ante to make sure Austin didn't start to panic about what was going to be happening tonight. What might not happen tonight. By the time you and him are at the end of the red carpet Austin's practically vibrating as if the cockring is making his whole body vibrate with it. His arm is around you and his mouth is by your ear the second you're away from the constant flashes of cameras.

"Please mama, please, I've been good. You're being mean but I'm such a good boy. Such a great boy for you." The words come out in what sounds like Elvis's southern drawl, half slurred and you find that it does something for you. Enough of something that you find yourself dragging him to the nearest room with a lock and forcing him in there. The second the door is locked you're bunching up your dress. The joys of buying your own and wearing it, you didn't have to worry about a designer getting mad you wrecked it.

"On your knees, Austin." You say as you shimmy out of your underwear.

He doesn't even hesitate his knees hitting the floor with a thump that has you wincing before you feel his tongue against your slit, causing a surprised "oh" to leave your mouth. He blows a puff of cold air against the warm line he had just left before humming and diving in. He eats you out like a man starved, his tongue flicking at your clit before dipping into your cunt a pale imitation of his dick or his fingers but the sensation of something slipping in and out of your cunt as quick as his tongue does has you gripping at the table behind you. He pulls away when he realizes your hands aren't in his hair.

"Hair, mama."

Two words before he's back against your core, focusing his attention on sucking at your clit, his faint 5 o'clock shadow scraping at cunt and the insides of your thighs. You let your hands move down to his hair, pulling it and earning a groan as well as a shiver from him. You know you have to be quiet, you two can't get caught, not tonight of all nights so you bite your lips even as you feel Austin's fingers join his tongue, curling just so to have your hips bucking against his face his nose putting pressure on your clit. You two are going to get caught but maybe it's worth it. Maybe it's worth it to make your baby boy happy, to give him the reward he deserved for being so good on the red carpet. To give him an incentive to be good throughout the ceremony.

"Such a good boy for your mama, Austin. The best boy a mama can ask for, god, baby, right there, fuck-" You whimper your thighs clenching around his head as you feel yourself right on the edge of coming. Austin smiles against you and nips at your clit and you clench even tighter as your toes curl and you lean back, your head hitting the wall behind you and your back arching before you come back down in a flash. Austin doesn't stop licking, almost as if he's trying to clean up the mess he made of you before he pulls back, his mouth covered in your juices.

"Best boy?" His eyes are a little lidded, but not enough that you're concerned for his well being. This is what he needed, this should settle him enough for most of the ceremony.

Your hand moves to the lapel of his jacket and you use the grip to pull him up to a standing position as best as you can. "The absolute best boy. A boy who's earned not having the cock ring on. Because mama knows her best boy can hold off on coming without it. Can't he?"

He nods slowly as he watches your hand sneak into his pants and with an ease he marvels at, manage to get the ring off without too much trouble. He sees your underwear on the floor and grabs them as you put the cock ring in your clutch. You eye the underwear until he says something.

"Can I keep them for a good luck charm tonight?" He asks, his face contorting into what you'd like to say is the best impression of a puppy dog that you've ever seen before. It makes your heart hurt and feel so full of love that you can't help but kiss Austin before you answer, tasting yourself on his lips.

"You can. Going to keep being a good boy tonight?" It's a question you don't need to ask but you figure checking in won't hurt as you straighten out your dress.

"With your panties in my pocket? Why wouldn't I be, mama?" He looks in the mirror and fixes his hair before turning to you. "Back out to that?"

"Back out to that, baby boy." You nod, taking his hand and squeezing it. "You're gonna win. Trust me when Mama says that."

He does and when he's thanking his mama in his speech everyone thinks he's just talking about Lori. And you know he is, but you also know his eyes don't ever leave yours when he says I couldn't have done this without my mama and you know it wasn't just her he was talking about. He might be the best boy in all of world to you, but to him, you might just be the best mama in all of the world.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #sub!austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler x you #austin butler fic #austin butler x fanfic #kinktober 2022 #ally's kinktober 2022 #ally writes

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catierambles · 8 months

Text

Feral Instincts Ch.25

Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 1468

Warnings: Alluded to sexy times?

Days and weeks passed, August giving her her space, but his distance was starting to physically hurt. Jordan went quiet again, but she didn't get complacent as the last time he went quiet, he re-emerged in a spectacularly painful fashion. She dug her keys out of her pocket, getting back from dropping Albert and Mike off at the cabin. She would have stayed, but she was up for the on-call rotation for work so she needed to be by her work laptop and a stable Internet connection. The cabin was great, but internet and cell service were anything but stable up there.

Stephanie paused when she saw the man standing outside of her apartment. He was handsome, with neatly combed black hair and chiseled jaw, the three piece suit he was wearing fitting him expertly so it probably cost more than she made in a month.

"Stephanie Daniels?" He asked and she nodded. "I'm Napoleon Solo, a Representative of the Pack Council." He felt like a Beta, but his bosses gave her pause.

"How can I help you?" She asked.

"May we talk inside?" He asked pleasantly.

"Sure." She said and he moved aside so she could unlock the door, following her into the apartment. He walked past her as she closed the front door and she watched as he looked around the unit.

"I was told Michael and Albert Syverson lived here with you?" He asked.

"They're up north, with their brother."

"Yes, Markus Syverson. Along with a former Homicide Lieutenant, and a Council Tracker."

"Yeah." If he was trying to unsettle her by basically saying he knew everything about her, he was failing. "What brings a Council Rep out to see me?"

"Ms. Daniels," He said, turning to face her, "I've heard that you're not…pleased with how the Council handles its internal issues with packs under their purview."

"Why should they care what I think about them?"

"When it affects their handling of said issues, they care." He said, "August Walker."

"What about him?"

"He was given an assignment recently and he turned it down, saying that he would not be taking assignments for the foreseeable future."

"Okay? And?"

"His reasoning was that his Mate didn't agree with the nature of the assignments and his role in resolving them." Napoleon said, "That would be you, correct?" She just crossed her arms over her stomach, arching a brow at him. "How can I change your mind?"

"Don't think you can, if we're being honest. What the Council is doing is underhanded and shady, and I told August that. These packs that are breaking human laws should be held to those laws and the punishments for breaking them, not wiped off the map."

"And these punishments are?"

"Incarceration, for whatever duration is deemed suitable by a court of law. You do the crime, you do the time, that sort of thing." She said and he huffed a short laugh, the corner of his lips perking into a small smile, flashing pearly white fangs.

"You're incredibly naive, Ms. Daniels." He said and she shrugged.

"Maybe I'm just an idealist." She said, "But my point is, the Pack Council is not a sovereign government within the United States with its own laws and rules and regulations and punishments for those who break them, and wolves are not sovereign citizens who do not have to follow the laws of the United States, nor are beholden to the penalties for breaking those laws. So, by sending out these "Cleaners" to "take care of" wolves who are breaking the laws of the states they reside in, or just simply don't want to play by the Pack Council's rules, they are thereby committing murder on a massive scale. Cleaners are hitmen, basically, is what I'm saying, silencing the naysayers and keeping their image clean."

"Ms. Daniels..."

"Am I wrong about any of that?"

"It's not that--" He suddenly felt like an Alpha and it made her shoulders tighten.

"Am. I. Wrong." She asked again and he was silent before giving her another small smile, looking away from her.

"Have a nice day, Ms. Daniels."

"You as well, Mr. Solo." She opened the front door and held it open as he walked out, seeing him pass by August as he was coming into the building.

"Female Alphas." Napoleon said to him as he went past and August watched him go before turning his attention to her.

"What did Leon want?"

"The Council sent him to try to "reason with me", I guess. It didn't work." She said and he huffed.

"Yeah, he's one of their more popular mouthpieces. Looks good in front of a camera."

"I thought he looked familiar." She said with a slight scowl. He didn't say anything, just stared at her for a moment before sighing, turning to head up the stairs. "August." He stopped, but didn't look at her so she went to him. "Hey." He still didn't look at her, but a sigh shook his chest as she laid her hand on his arm.

"I miss you." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Look at me." She said and he hesitated a moment before turning his head to look at her, the pain in his eyes almost palpable.

"I miss you, Stephanie." He said, "You're starting to fade and it's like someone is slowly chopping off a limb. One cut at a time. I'm losing you, and I don't want to lose you. You're my Mate."

"August, I--" She stopped with a sigh, "Fuck it." Reaching up, she wove her fingers into his hair, pulling him down into a hard kiss. He responded instantly to her, turning to her fully, his hands wrapping around her waist. He pulled her against him sharply, capturing the noise she made with his lips moving against hers. His hands slid down over her ass, making a shiver race down her spine and she broke the kiss as he palmed the backs of her thighs through her jeans. She hopped up as he lifted, wrapping her legs around his waist and moving her fingers through his hair as he crossed the hall, walking into her apartment and kicking the door closed behind him with such a force that it rattled in the hinges. She kissed him again as he carried her into her bedroom, staying wrapped around him as he knelt on the bed, pressing her against the pillows.

They lay in bed afterwards, his arm over her stomach as he tucked his face into her neck.

“Sure hope I didn’t miss any calls from the answering service.” She said, “Little awkward to explain why to Heather.” August snorted, the tip of his nose moving behind her ear and he turned her face to him with fingertips at her jaw, taking her lips in a kiss that made her breathe in deep, her hand going to his side. “That Council Rep guy said you stopped taking assignments.” He nodded.

“I thought about what you said, about how these people are dying just to keep the Council looking good to the public. What I did with the Agency protected people, the US and sometimes the entire world, but these packs didn’t do anything to warrant a death sentence. Some of the things they were doing would make you want to kill them as a gut reaction, but they weren’t punishable by death in the eyes of the law. The others…” He stopped with a sigh, “Benign anti-authoritarianism isn’t a crime. Not wanting to be told what to do, but not hurting anyone, isn’t a crime. How did Peter put it? I was the “Council’s attack dog”? Yeah, that was accurate. They were using me to do their dirty work, just like Langley used me after they found out I was a wolf. I’m done being used.”

“I think Sy wants me to go for a Council seat.” She said and he arched a brow at her. “He told me there were no female Alphas on the Council and I made a remark about how maybe there should be. He’s been dropping hints since then, but you know him, he’s about as subtle as a brick through a window.”

“You’d be good.” He said and she snorted.

“You’re biased.” She said and her cell phone went off, making her jump out of bed. Digging it out of her pants on the floor, she answered the call, heading over to her dresser and the notepad and pen she kept on it. “Stephanie. Okay. Did they give an NPI? Phone Number? Okay, I’ll log in and give them a call. Have a nice day.” She hung up the call and looked at August laying on his back in bed, his hand behind his head. “Time for work.”

#henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #august walker #hellraiser mike #geralt of rivia #feral instincts

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pinkrabit · 4 months

Text

ATLA LA Episode 4 Into the Dark

The glowing rock candy 🤤🤤

Iroh and Aang bonding in prison.

"I'm really starting to see what kind of person his is." "I doubt that."

Sokka yelling at Sai like you yell at your father's mistakes

Love how active the fantasy racism is.

DONT GUILT SOKKA, SAI

Sokka is still so proud of Hakoda. He's so proud to be his son, "My father would never do what you did."

Zuko sneaking in??? We've seen numerous times in the OG his stealth capabilities when he tries. So, I'm excited.

BABY BUMI ! BABY (hes still a baby) AANG !

"I like the parts of Omashu that aren't so depressing :D"

SECRET TUNNEL

Great touch to openly address labor camps and POWs with the real world terms

"It's time to stop fighting. It's time to fight."

The Flopsy statue needs more recognition.

BUMI

Even Aang looks at Bumi like he's insane

Bumi, I know he's your friend, but you shouldn't out Aang like that

"Throw him.... a feast!" Aang looking terrified as if his old friend would EVER hurt him because the world has changed so much since he was last in it breaks me.

"Not everyone out there is the enemy"

"If you stand against us, you are."

"You're fighting because of hate. Just like the Fire Benders"

YES KATARA FIGHT BACK

KATARA THUGGIN AFTER SAYING "Goodbye, Jet"

I love how awful a liar Zuko is in every universe. LEARN TO FIB MY BOY

Aang at the table, like, "did my bsf friend forget I'm a vegetarian???"

Bumi being passively aggressive toward Aang, and Aang serving back "It was a tragedy!"

"Don't you care?" Aang, Bumi has a point when he yells at you. I like this Bumi a lot. His anger feels genuine. However irrational it may be.

THE HIPPIES IN THE MOUNTAIN

Sokka slowly vibing is OOC but still appreciated.

"We're doing what we're doing." They're all high. They gotta be.

Are Oma and Shu...? The gay??

I love how women are often portrayed as ending a war or unintentionally starting it, and then there's Azula.

Thanks for the backstory hippie man, wish you had a map though.

Two lovers, forbidden from one another~

SECRET TUNNEL (×2) THROUGH THE MOUNTAIN

"They're doomed 🤠"

Prisoner cruelty!! I know Uncle War Crimes but what about the Geneva Convention?

"The direct path is not always the best path." Paralleled with Aang wanting to find a way to end the war without killing Ozai.

I hate how they took out Kataang in the LA (i understand it'd be weird to allude to making aang's actor kiss kataras, though), but I like "love" in the tunnels being familial instead of romantic. And I like Sokka using his brain to figure stuff out.

"He was 19.. Was it worth it?" "We were at war.. I was a soldier." Such is the awful reality of war. When it comes to soldiers, it's not personal. It's a job, its dehumanizing to yourself and the rest of the world. It's a politcal game. "You (Iroh) know nothing of loss." And then showing his grief.

Iroh didn't want his son to die a war hero, he wanted Lu Ten to be his son.

!!! This was such an important conversation to put into the show. !!!

Zuko having something from Lu Ten 🥺🥺

I want a separate series with just Lu Ten

Leave from the Vine playing 🥺🥺

Bumi ragging on Aang for wanting to be a kid, AS A TWELVE YEAR OLD, makes me so mad.

Yes, he thinks about fun and games. A boy shouldn't be as bitter as an old man.

Zuko showing up to kick ass for his Uncle because that's HIS FUCKING UNCLE. He's still strong enough to break metal WITHOUT BENDING. SHOWING HIS COMPENTENCY.

"We've all seen enough death."

Zuko showing concern for Iroh's Injury to demonstrate his "true" nature of being sensitive and compassionate. Which is why he was banished in the first place.

The WT Siblings just hold each other before their perceived death feels so important to me.

And I feel like we can and should read into the badgermole/ "Love is brightest in the dark" scene.

"Great, how do you think they respond to verbal commands." Sokka can you be Sappy for like 5 minutes please.

"Some of us have to fight, even if we don't want to. That's what it means to he in a WAR!" This show is delivering so many lines and comments about war and its complexities for everybody involved. Just like the original. Y'all wanna sleep on it because of minor character changes????

I have yet to see a character, Suki has come the closest, that has been so awfully OOC that I've had to stop.

Aang asking for help, "one that requires you to make impossible choices" Bumi is a little misguided here but he means well in sharing his knowledge of leading to his friend.

"Learn what it means to be the Avatar!" "No!" Aang will never give up who he is based on others expectations. And the idea that he doesn't have to do things on his own, "like a child" is going to be what wins the war.

Aangs refusal to kill or hurt isn't bad, he's going to make a difference. He's going to save people. He's going to be the Avatar, but he will be an airbender first!

SAI OUTING THE FIRE NATION IS REDEMPTION

Iroh left to be with his nephew 🥺🥺

He won't let this boy be without a father

LEAVES ON THE VINE

"Everything I need is on this boat"

This episode felt a little rushed, and felt like it lacked a little in terms of the Gaang. But in terms of Zuko, it served. Zuko's story felt stronger here. Especially, after seeing Appa fly away, but he chose instead to prioritize his Uncle.

#into the dark #atla #netflix avatar #avatar #avatar the last airbender #king bumi #zuko #uncle iroh

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vintageteacutsino · 1 year

Text

We Really Are Timeless

Fyodor x GN!Reader

Summary: You're in an old manor; notes seem to ask you to follow it... leading to portals of time.

A/N: Apologies for English is not my first language, and that I also don't know how to open a story. Nevertheless, please enjoy! 💜 The story is also inspired by 'Timeless' by Taylor Swift!

♖ ♘ ♗ ♕ ♔ ♗ ♘ ♖

Perhaps taking a break away from everyone was a good idea; and so there you are, lurking in a dandy house filled with exquisiteness, and grace of past bestowed for sight of present. Only be ruined by a storm.

Luminous, the moon flows, touching the ground as you pass by huge windows, howling sounds creeps; dwindled, the wind as you close one, and so does the song of it.

But then there the silence made a way for an unknown melody you had not heard before. Was it 'cause of the rain? Closing the windows managed to mute the tossing sounds of water somehow.

Curiosity killed the cat, say them; but the incessant sound starts to get annoying, which only entices you to follow it.

The music fills your ears louder, and louder, until you get closer to a room.

The door is open, you are welcome to enter anytime, but the darkness says otherwise. Lucky for you, you're with a candle.

Breathlessly, you entered, feeling the notes suffocating your lungs, it pains, yet enraptured you.

The candescent glow of the candle gave you a vision of a silhouette of a man with his back turned to you. Slowly, his arm moves back, and fourth, dancing sounds.

"Hello, and for what are you here for?", says he. Your expression utters in surprise, as your presence be known to this man.

"You play beautifully.", You walked over to him, as the burning flicker of the candle lights up the space between you two, you realise what he is playing is a cello.

"Why, thank you.", he smiled. "You must be one of the guests.", added him.

"Yes… Are you too?", you slowly sit on the floor, putting the candle down.

Facing someone who has delicate lashes, shines the beauty of. You are in awe. Then, disdain fills your inside that of, one must be a saint to play this melody while looking somewhat angelic… and you are? A devout, listening to it.

Reverse the cello, he was. Feeding you silence, before slowly opening his mouth to answer. "No, I live here."

"Then you must be so lucky seeing this place everyday." You told him.

"Fanciful is what this place is, indeed. But to share it with tourists, and history; not so much." He stopped playing his cello, he put it down, and looked at you.

Those candlelights made his purple irises shimmer in the dark of the room. Tilting his head, he smirked, that's prettily, like the devil's, his raven hair framing his face, and falling until his neck.

"And what are you doing this late of night, wandering around?" He slowly put his elbow on his lap, balancing his face on his palm.

"I'm unable to sleep 'cause of the storm, and I heard your hauntingly played cello."

You answered, standing up from where you are sitting.

"My apologies. Was it a nuisance to you?" Softly smiling, he crossed his legs. "It was just a nightly session I have with my cello, hadn't I realized that one of the guests is near this room." His tone alludes to mockery.

"My name's Fyodor, by the way. May I know yours?" After a moment of silence.

"[Name].", You slowly answer him.

"[Name].", Fyodor repeated. Smiling softly, he stood up, leveling higher than you are. Slowly, he picks the candle from the ground.

Gleams, the face of you two from the candescent light of it. Staring at you for a moment, wide-eyed gaze he gave you upon a realization of something.

"I thought you looked so familiar, and I may just know why.", Says he. "Mind if I take you somewhere inside this mansion?"

You followed Fyodor, leading you to hallways none would even notice.

The deeper you go, the more the temperature drops, chilly, you hold your arms together.

At the very end, a library, glamorous and peculiar, and covered with cobwebs, seemingly lost in time. Stories longed to be opened after centuries of waiting.

Then, he stopped by his track, fell a curtain by the wall as he pulled it. Shadows never gave up on covering it from your vision, but Fyodor neared the candle to give sight to a painting— a mirror rather. For there, you see yourself, but not.

The painting looked so pure, like the Holy Mother of Kazan, it stared at you, with their child.

"The resemblance is quite an eerie thing to look at, is it not?" He paused, "What are the chances that one goes to visit a place, and discover that one had lived similarly of facial structures as you, was painted?" Fyodor chuckled.

"Who are they?", You asked.

"My great grandparent." He looks at you, and back to the painting.

Your eyes explored the dark library, and saw an old photo.

You picked it from where it was placed, squinting your eyes, trying to get the darkness out. You moved it closely to your light source— the candle.

And if the painting is not weird enough… This photo has Fyodor in old-fashioned attire, and there you are, by his side. Have you ever met this man before? You asked yourself.

"That's them. Them, and their lover." Fyodor told, making you look at him.

"My eyes are just playing tricks on me, isn't it?" You tried to shake off the uncanny feeling from the resemblance.

"People said that I do look like my grandfather… I can surely see your vision.", He slowly grabbed the photo from your hand.

The clock ticked 3 AM, and Fyodor had his hand spread for you to hold onto. "It's getting late, we should go." He smiled.

While walking, creaks from the fragile floor of the old manor squeaks. "After you.", He said, asking you to go up the stairs.

The two of you managed to get out of the library, but then the candle died. Fyodor held your hand tighter to not lose you, and that is when loud footsteps joined in. Fyodor told you that he have some matches.

No idea if these footsteps are the two of you, or if someone else is within.

That's when you heard a voice calling unfamiliar names… "You hear that?" You asked Fyodor. "I certainly do… it seems like calling to someone. Those names does ring bells."

The voice called again.

"I knew so…", Silently, Fyodor whispered. "Those are the names my grandparents had."

You looked confused. "What? Then why is it being called?"

The footsteps approach closer, and faster, just in time for the candle to finally light up again.

Ghostly figure, you saw. A man with a ravaging glare. "You young lovers are a pain in the ass! Golgotha comes, and you two are still being lovey-dovey!" This man scolds. "In the dead of night, and still running around this damned house!"

Fyodor, and you left dumbfounded by the babbling of this man. Slowly, he puts his hand on your waist, and silent whisper of, "Calm your heartbeat."

Fyodor walked to the man, and apologizes, for this ghostly man to scold further. You soon pick up that this ghostly man thinks that you, and Fyodor are Fyodor's grandparents… seemingly travelling in time.

"For the love of Yahweh, be modest for once!" The man dismissed you two, walking back to where he came from.

Fyodor, grabbed your hands, and guided you to the exit, before the clock ringed again, 4 AM.

"Do you think we just time travelled, or that man does that on a daily occurrence… Or perhaps we really are them, but time manifests to live in the present?" Fyodor giggled at you, while running his hands through your hair.

Cool beta reader + editor: Clo (Thank you so much!)

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd brainrot #bsd fanfic #bsd imagines #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd writing #Spotify

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breitzbachbea · 8 months

Note

Now that you mentioned it I am very intrigued by your human Hetalia au, go on

Thank you very much anon!

So. Basic concept: A world very much the same as ours, but acting mostly hidden from the public eye, are national crime syndicates in every country. Pretty much all are spearheaded by the boss of one noteable family that ensured that position some generations ago (those bosses are the Hetalia nations, ordinary Humans here) and two right hands. The AU is called Like Father Like Son.

Now, these syndicates are very much globally connected and when it comes to each other, act less than actual organized crime organisations in real life and more like monarchies or other types of state conducting diplomacy. Also, as is very unlikely for real life and much more common for royality, the bosses have usually inherited the business and had no option to opt out/felt it was the right thing to do. This is nuanced along the way, but again, stark difference to the volatile infighting and general hierarchies from real life organized crime (where the successor is probably NOT the 17 year old son, but a trusted right hand).

But they are, at the end of the day, gangsters. They fight for their own survival and supreme status within the other criminals in their own country and amongst their peers. (Alexa, play 741 Millionen by Tüsn). They don't represent states or governments or even people. They're in it because power is nice and the sunk-cost fallacy is too great to get out.

But because I am a history nerd, they still reflect certain phases and struggles and ideas about nationhood, like their Hetalia counterparts actually would. And here is where it gets interesting.

The protagonists of the AUs mainseries, called also called Like Father Like Son with the subtitle Sangue cattivo non mente on ao3, are the Irish and the Sicilians. So it's my Hetalia OCs (though I borrowed the Sicilian from a friend) Harry O'Connel and Michele Vento, plus Harry's younger sister Sophie O'Connel, and the Human-from-the-start right hands Paddy O'Neill, Charlie Higgins and Marco & Lorenzo Bontade.

And if you're looking for an Irish villain, where do you look to? England. Always the Brits. 'May the enemies of Ireland never meet a friend'. Which is why Arthur Kirkland, along with his right hands Robert Bailey and Tahir Rashid, serves as antagonist to the Irish in many stories. And of course, this makes it easy to present the fight as underdogs vs powerful evil empire, along the line of actual historical conflict. (I am oversimplifying, but we aren't here to argue details right now and in broad strokes, it IS right). If the reader has an inkling of Irish or British history, they will see the parallels. I, as the author, work it into metaphors by the narrative entity (usually occupying one character's POV, tho not to be confused with the character being the narrator). I work it into the general themes, with characters talking about history or historical/cultural backdrops. And of course, by that the characters themselves draw the parallels and pull on old stereotypes to rage against their enemies. Arthur likes to pull out the old stereotypes of the Irish being a belligerent, backward and unreasonable race when he paints Harry as a troublemaker. Harry will paint Arthur a tyrant who can't stand to see another man free when he feels entitled to his property and life. It's so enticing to believe that you know where to stand, to know where's right on the merits of history and the real world alone.

But as soon as you take a step back, you realize how they merely use something bigger and greater than themselves to fight their petty wars. Paddy and Charlie rail against the English after they've kidnapped Harry, they say Arthur thinks the world should grovel before him because it's his righ as an Englishman. But they're never alluding to anything bigger than themselves; yes, Irish are being kicked down, but it's just them. And sure, they may say an Irishman doesn't give up and that's what the English shall see, but it's the rhetoric of revolution without its goals. There's no British threat to Ireland - no fight they can align themselves with, because Arthur certainly isn't aligned with any either. Truly, if they were so committed to it, they would look with more sympathy to Tahir, whose parents came from Pakistan in the 1970s. They'd appeal to him, see the parallels of history with Ireland and the British Colony of India. But while the English tyranny rhetoric is usually reserved for white Arthur and Robert, at the end of the day, Tahir's also an 'English pedant' and haughty prick to them. And Tahir, similiarly, doesn't have much sympathy for the Irish, seeing them as annoying obstacles to their business dealings. He's in this to give his family a better life, he knows there is nothing grand about their enterprise. They all know that. In quiet moments, amongst themselves, they even express it. The farce they play; that the ideals they want to hold they betray; that they are a cancer on the people and country they love.

And I just. I love that. I love how it still has the themes one can ask in more substantial explorations of Hetalia - the constraints of free will, bearing the sins and burdens of the past, how much you can be an individual and how much you are a role. I love how it makes them true individuals, in the end, how it employs history as something that is interpreted from the witnesses we have to the past and told through our own eyes. How it seemingly creates this parallel to real history, but when one steps back, it shows that it's play pretend and it makes the reader sympathize while also keep its distance at times, enjoying a story that is fundamentally about a lot of people making the wrong decisions and living with the consequences. It's a tragedy, a meta-level of mourning - with none of that hope for a future that any reading of history can have.

Thank you for coming to my Ted-talk. I am currently rewriting the main series, because what is up on AO3 was written by a fourteen to sixteen year old and therefore, isn't very good. However, you can still check out my other writing (and the not very good mainseries) here. I also like to make lots and lots of AUs with the many Human characters and the Hetalia characters where they're not burdened by being organized criminals. You can find my ramblings about many of these AUs on my sideblog @i-centri-degli-universi . You will also find a few written works for some AUs on the ao3 already linked.

Thank you for your attention. I hope you have a grand day, anon, as well as everyone who read through this.

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andydrysdalerogers · 2 years

Text

Aurora ~ Part One

Pairings: Andy Barber vs Lloyd Hansen; Andy Barber x OFC Aurora "Rory" Thatcher

Summary: Rory has opened a new bakery in town. And the local mafia boss has taken an interest...

Work Count:4.6K

Warnings: Mafia! Andy Barber, assault, fluff, mentions of parental death, this is a multi-verse of mixed characters

This work is 18+ only. Please heed the warnings and walk away as this story does get violent as it goes on...

Banner by @justawriterand

Mood board and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Welcome to Newton. A sleepy town outside of Boston. Where kids can play with their friends and shop owners advertise with signs on the street. It’s a quiet town. An unassuming town. A town where one-man rules and no one forgets it. This town, Newton, is Andy Barber’s town.

Aurora Thatcher wiped the sweat from her brow as she placed the last table in her shop. Her shop. The bakery that Rory always dreamed about. The Sweetest Things. It took two years, one loan from her grandparents but it was here. The décor was Parisian, black, white and pink. The displays would be filled with her treats. The checkerboard floor was polished, the white tables and chairs ready for customers to sit and enjoy their treats. Rory smiled. Everything was perfect.

The bell over the door rang, startling you from your thoughts. A man with dark hair, scruff on his shin stood in the doorway. “Miss Thatcher?”

“Yes? Sorry, we are closed.”

“I know Miss Thatcher. My name is Nick, Nick Fowler. I work for Mr. Barber.” He offer what she assumed to be a gentle smile, trying not to scare her.

She froze. Mr. Andrew Barber, the notorious mob boss. He ran this town and everyone in it. She had been made aware of this early on and while Rory knew he wouldn’t hurt her, she still feared him. “Hello Mr. Fowler. How can I help you?”

Nick Fowler smiled at the pretty young thing standing in from of him. She was petite, with dark hair pulled into braids and a bun, large doe eyes that alluded to the innocence of her. She was beautiful but she also didn’t realize it. Her shirt was tight to her body covered by an apron. Nick licked his lips at the girl, adjusting his jeans subtly, not wanting to scare her. “I’m sure you are aware Miss Thatcher that there is a certain, let’s call it, leasing fee, that comes with owning a shop in this town.”

Rory gulped. “Yes Mr. Fowler. My landlord made me aware.” She shuffled to the register and pulled the envelope full of cash for him. “I was advised the leasing fee was two.”

Nick opened the envelope full of $20 bills. He looked up at her with a smirk. “To start Miss Thatcher. Depending on how profitable you are, that may change. Do you understand?”

Rory nodded, trying not to cry. She watched as Nick sniffed the air. “You got any samples?” She nodded again and moved to package up some treats she had made. A couple of croissants, some Danishes, cookies, and her signature red velvet cupcakes. Nick pulled out his wallet to pay but Rory waved him off.

“If you like them, you can just send customers my way.”

“Thank you, Miss Thatcher. Have a nice evening.”

Rory watched him leave and then sag against the counter, the tears she fought so hard to hide finally falling.

Nick walked back into the office, munching on one of the heavenly cookies Rory had given him. He swallows as he saw his boss reviewing some documents, his third in command, Sam Wilson, reviewing the monitors for the casino. “Hey Boss!”

“Fowler. How’d it go?” Andy never looked up from what he was reading.

“Smoothly. The owner was ready for us.” He tossed the envelope on the desk. “She was sweet but scared. Killer body. Amazing baker.” He put the box of treats down carefully.

“Good to know my tenants warn the new people.” Andy looked up at Nick with a smirk. “You have something,” pointing to the side of Nick’s mouth, a smear of chocolate on his lip.

“Shit, sorry boss.” He took out a napkin to wipe his face.

“Was that from the baker?” Andy looked at the box.

“Yeah, Miss. Thatcher. Sweet thing. She gave them to me. Said that if we liked them to send her customers. By the way, I will. She’s that good.”

“Hmm, red velvet. My favorite.” Andy plucked the cupcake out of the box and took a bite. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped his mouth. “Fucking Christ, that’s good.”

“Told ya. Wilson, you have to try these.”

The men munched on the treats as Andy put the money away. “So, Miss Thatcher was amiable?”

“Very. Wouldn’t mind going back and visiting with her. Get to know her… personally.” Nick smirked at the thought.

“You will do no such thing Nick.” Andy frowned. He had never met the girl, but he knew Rory’s grandparents and was doing them a favor by charging such low rent. “She’s innocent. So just do your job and that’s it.”

A couple of months had passed, and the bakery was a hit on the block. The rate of growth left Rory happy but unsettled. Nick has been back as promised, once a month to collect rent. He could see the growth but didn’t charge her more. Every time he stopped by Rory had a box of treats for him, especially saving a couple of red velvet cupcakes after Nick mentioned that Mr. Barber liked them.

It was nearly closing time when the doorbell rang. Rory looked up from her sweeping to see a gruff dark hair man enter with a lankier man. She went to the register and smiled. “May I help you?”

“I’ve come to collect the rent,” he replied. She paled.

“I’m sorry, M-Mr. Fowler already came by to pick it up. I’m sorry.”

The man leered at Rory. “Stupid bitch,” he growled. “This is my block.” He came around the counter. Rory froze as he stalked towards her. “Guess, you’ll have to pay me another way.” He twirled a tendril that had fallen from her ponytail, the smile on his face sadistic.

Andy was in desperate need of caffeine. After wiping the blood from his bruised knuckles and taking care of the issue with the casino behind the antique store, he heard his stomach rumble. “Work” had left him tired and hungry. He spotted the new little bakery and decided to visit and meet the Thatcher’s granddaughter. He walked across the street and peered in the window. He watched as a young woman pushed Rumlow away from herself and Rumlow reach back and slap her, the force pushed her to the floor. He raced into the shop. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Brock looked up to see his boss standing in the doorway with a look of fury. “Mr. Barber, sir, I’m just collecting…”

“I told you, I already paid Nick two days ago,” Rory whispered from the floor, holding her cheek.

“Rumlow, she’s on Fowler’s list. Leave now and never come back here again.”

“But sir…”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Brock scurried like the rat he is and left, taking Ward with him.

Andy walked around the counter and kneeled beside Rory. “Are you alright?”

Rory was still holding her cheek, a single tear falling down her face. “I’m fine.”

Andy’s heart cracked. “No, you’re not.” He stood up and went to the back. She heard the freezer open and close. He returned to her with ice wrapped in a towel. “Here,” he gently pressed the towel to her face. She winces and he brushes a strand of hair from her face. “My name is Andy.”

She knew who he was. “Rory. Uh, Aurora,” she whispered. He could feel the tremble through her body.

“That’s a beautiful name.” She maintained her eyes casted down. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassured. He could still see the fear in her posture. Rory refused to look at him, keeping her eyes casted down. She didn’t want to make the mobster mad, but Andy studied her. She was beautiful, even as she was covered in flour, tear tracks and a red mark covering her face.

Rory’s voice quivered as she spoke. “I’m sorry Mr. Barber. I didn’t mean to talk to your man that way or shove him.” She stood up. “I – I can pay if you need me too.” She went to the register, still refusing to meet his eyes.

The buzz of the register brings Andy out of whatever trance her body had put him in. “If you say you paid Nick, then I believe you.” She nodded. But Andy wanted to see her face. “Look at me.” She froze, her heart begins to pound. She was sure he can hear it thumping against her rib cage, wanting to escape. “I said, look at me.” He grasped her chin and tilted her head to meet his eyes. Their height difference was significant. He was easily over six feet while she was just over five. Soft brown eyes meet his blue green ones, and she was lost. Rory could see every line in his irises, like a map that she wanted to study.

Andy tried not to lose himself in her eyes. “You are under my protection. No harm will come to you ever again. Do you understand sweetheart?” Rory nodded, unable to let go of his gaze. “Good. Now, what time do you close?”

“In an hour and then I have to prep for tomorrow,” she whispered. She never took her eyes off of him. She took in the rich texture of his suit, the dark blue complimenting his eyes, his full beard accentuating his full lips. But then she saw it. A speck of blood on the collar of his white shirt. She locked eyes with him again and she swallowed.

Finally breaking the stare down, Andy looks at his watch. “I’ll be by in a couple of hours to take you home. I’ll send Nick to watch over you.”

“You don’t have to do that Mr. Barber. I can take care of myself.”

“No, I do.” He gently caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes at his touch. “Finish up sweetheart. Go on. I’ll wait for Nick.”

Rory offered a small smile as she went back to her cleaning and organizing. Andy called Nick over and five minutes later the man himself strolled in. “Hey Rory! Any cookies left?”

“Hi Nick. Yeah, in the back. Help yourself.”

“Hey boss.” Nick nodded to Andy. “What’s going on?”

“Rumlow was here, claiming to be collecting the rent but I think he was after something more.” His eyes moved to Rory as she wiped down the ovens.

“Shit. Ok, what’s the plan?”

“I want protection for her at all times. Get Parker or Lang to watch her. I need to take care of somethings with Barton but I’ll be back. We’ll discuss how to handle Rumlow later.”

“You got it boss.”

“And Fowler, if anything happens to her, I’ll consider it your fault.” Andy turned and found Rory stocking ingredients. He observes her as she straightens the boxes and bags, her curves more defined when not hidden by her apron. He wants to run his hands over her back and down her backside to grasp the globes of her ass while he holds Rory tight to him. He clears his throat to bring his mind back from dirty thoughts and catch her attention. “Sweetheart, I have business to finish but I’ll be back. Please, don’t go anywhere without Nick.”

“Yes, Mr. Barber.” Rory chewed on her lip.

Andy took a few steps towards her. He cupped her chin and using this thumb pulled to release her bottom lip. “What I wouldn’t give to bite that lip,” he whispered. Rory sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. “I hope I get that chance soon,” he breathed in her ear and placed a small kiss on her cheek, the whiskers of his beard tickling her face. “Soon, beautiful.” And then he was gone.

Rory took a moment to calm herself. Having never met the man before today, the emotions and attractions were new. Andrew Barber was sex walking in her eyes. His height was perfect, allowing her to still study him when she locked eyes with him. Those eyes, the eyes that allowed you to get lost in the deepest of oceans and yet still see the sky. His face, after it let go of the fury, was kind. He looked at Rory, not with anger, but with longing or dare she say it, lust. Rory’s body clenched at the thought of Andy’s hands on her and she shook her head to clear her thoughts. Rory went back to work and chatted with Nick.

“You ok cupcake?”

She tilted your head. “Cupcake?”

“Would have called your kitten but I don’t think the boss would have liked that,” Nick replied as he leaned on the door frame. He was no slouch either, with his blue sweater bring out the blue in his eyes.

He seemed angry earlier. Rory got on her tip toes to get a canister onto a higher shelf. Nick got behind her to help, placing the canister with ease.

“Boss doesn’t like it when an innocent is hurt.” Nick tilted her face to see the small bruise forming on her cheek. “Rumlow crossed a line. Did you put ice on this?”

“Andy gave me some.” Rory blush at saying his name. It felt good to say his given name. But then the thought of Rumlow entered back into her mind. “He isn’t going to come back, is he?”

Nick clenched his jaw. “Not if we have any say. Rory, you are on my list so your protection is my responsibility, and the boss will make sure of that. Don’t worry cupcake. We’ll take care of you.”

Rory and Nick continue to work, she was prepping and Nick finishing the cleaning. As she placed the last of the doughs in the fridge, the bell tingles again, making her jump and coward behind the shelf, her breathing becoming more rapid. This little piece of metal was now making sounds that terrified her. Rory sinks down to the floor, wondering what was happening to her.

“Sweetheart? Are you here?”

The sweetest voice calls for her. Rory stood up and peek her head around the shelf. “Hi.”

“Rory? What’s the matter?” Andy can see her body is tense, her eyes round with fear. She shakes her head, knowing she was being ridiculous. She headed to her office, but Andy stops her. “Talk to me.”

“The bell.” Rory looked down. “I don’t like the bell anymore. It scares me,” she says in a small voice, ashamed that the offensive, non-descript piece of metal is messing with her psyche.

Andy gathered her in his arms, holding her tights. “Won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.” He let go and followed her into the office. Rory grabbed her bag and keys and walked out with Andy and Nick. Nick cleared his throat.

“So Rory, I have a friend who is looking for work. Good kid, hard worker. Maybe you should hire him to help you out?”

Andy hid his smile, knowing what Nick was doing. Planting Parker as a worker would be perfect.

Rory smiled. “I could use the extra help. Send him my way.”

Andy took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, and he walked to the car. Nick opened the door and Andy helped her in. “Where to?”

“I’m about ten blocks away but I can walk, really.”

Andy cocked an eyebrow towards her, and she stopped. Nick pulled into traffic and a few minutes later they were parked in front of her building. Andy stopped her as she climbed out of the car. “Have dinner with me.”

There was no point in trying to refuse. This was Andy Barber and he always got what he wanted. Rory nodded. “Ok.”

“Tomorrow night. I’ll be by.” He kissed her hand and let her go.

When Rory woke up the next morning, she could have sworn that last night was a dream. Andy Barber did not ask her out on a date, that Rumlow guy hadn’t attacked her. She got up and got ready for the day. She saw a dress that she had purchased on a whim. It was white with blue flowers, empire waisted, boat neck, sleeveless. The dress fell to her knees. Maybe it wasn’t a dream. She pulled the dress out along with some blue heels, just in case. Rory grabbed her bag and headed out into the crisp morning. She missed the sedan that was following her.

Rory got to the shop and there was a young man sitting on the stoop. She froze and he jumped up. “Hi, are you Miss Thatcher?”

“Yes?” She looked at him warily.

“My name is Peter. Peter Parker. Mr. Barber and Mr. Fowler said I should come by about a job.”

Rory swallowed hard. Yesterday was not a dream. She remembered everything. Nick and Andy promised to take care of her. Peter could see the hesitation. “Oh sorry. Here.” He handed her a note.

Cupcake,

This is the guy I asked you about. He’s a good kid and a hard worker. Call me if you have any questions. He’s also there to protect you if you need it.

In your service,

Nick

She looked at Peter. She offered him a smile. “Hi Peter. It says here that you are a hard worker.”

Peter smiled, his face nothing but positive. “Yes ma’am, ready to learn and help where I can.”

“Ew, don’t call me ma’am.” Peter let out a chuckle. “Its Rory. Let me show you inside.” She got him an apron and walked him through the store. He was a quick learner, and his strength helped a lot. He got all the tables set up and straightened, the heavy coffee pots moved and set without a sweat. Nick was right. Peter was strong and it helped calmer her nerves, you know, just in case someone unsavory showed back up to the shop.

About an hour before closing, Nick strode in with a box. “Hey cupcake!”

“I see we are sticking with the nickname.” She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Hi Nick. What’s with the box?”

“Boss asked me to install a new security system for you and close the shop. But don’t worry, the only thing I’ll take are any leftovers.” He winked at her.

“But…”

“No buts. He said, and I quote, ‘I need my sweetheart to have time to get ready.’ So out with you. Parker and I can handle this. You’re closed tomorrow anyways so no prep.” Nick took her keys from her. “Wilson will take you home.”

“Wilson?”

A kind looking man was outside. He turned at the sound of his name and nodded at her. Nick handed Rory her bag and guided her outside. “Wilson, this is Miss Rory Thatcher. Take care of her.” He turned to you. “Have fun cupcake.” Sam led her to the car and started to drive.

“How do you know where I live?”

“Mr. Barber told me.” He pulled in front of the building just a few minutes later. “I’ll be outside, on watch.”

“Ok.” The thought of someone watching her building was enough to send her in a panic. Rory locked the door after rushing in and sank to the floor. How was this your life? Was it wise to go on a date with Andy Barber? Her thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. She smiled as she read the caller ID. “Hi Nana.”

“Hello my darling! How are you?”

“I’m good Nana. Business is booming.”

“That’s wonderful my darling. Any plans this evening.”

Rory hesitated. She might as well come clean since it would probably get out sooner than later. “I’m going to dinner with Andrew Barber.” The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening. “Nana?”

“Did he threaten you?”

“No! He helped me with a difficult… umm… customer and then he asked me to dinner. He was a perfect gentleman.”

Her grandmother was in a peculiar state: quiet. She was concerned at Rory’s defense of the man. “Rory, just, make sure the man is respectful.”

“I will Nana. I have to get ready. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Have fun my darling.”

Rory hung up and got ready. A shower, hair done, makeup on, she pulled on her dress, stockings and heels. As she was sliding earrings on, the doorbell rang.

Andy has always been a confident man. Nothing has ever made him nervous or scared. Until he looked into her eyes. Her big, innocent, doe eyes, the beautiful color enrapturing him to his very soul. They were eyes that could see right through him, haunting him as he tried to sleep. How had he not made the effort before to come and see her? No matter. Now he was standing on Rory’s stoop, a bouquet of pink roses in his hands, waiting for her to open the door. Andy never felt the need to have a partner in life after Laurie, a wife to make his queen. Until he saw her.

When she opened the door, Andy was at a loss for words. Her innocence shined through in her appearance and yet his thoughts were of nothing but how to get her naked as fast as humanly possible. “Sweetheart, wow,” he said. Then he heard the sweetest sound...

Her giggle.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” Rory’s cheeks faintly pink, eyes cast down.

“Andy, sweetheart. Call me Andy.” He offered the flowers to her. I” thought these would match your beauty, but I can see now that only you are that beautiful.”

Rory blushed again. “I’m sure that’s not true but thank you.” She kept her eyes downcast.

Andy grasped her chin and tilted her head to force her to look at him. “If I say something, I mean it. You are gorgeous Miss Thatcher. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.” Her submission was surprising. She moved to put the flowers in a vase, her mind racing. She always considered herself independent, self-sufficient, in need of no man. But here she was, submitting to Andy Barber without thinking twice. How did he have a hold of her so quickly. His deep commanding voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“I thought dinner and then a stroll, my dear. Is Chinese ok?”

“Yes, I love Chinese.” She gave him a genuine smile and it warmed Andy’s heart. He offered his arm after she closed her door. He guided her to the car and once in, his driver pulled away.

Once at the restaurant, she waited for her door to be opened as Andy had gripped her hand when she went to open it. She saw Nick approach the door and open it, “Hi Rory.”

“Hi Nick,” as she climbed out with Andy’s helps. It was dawning on Rory that this was how Andy was treated when he was out and about in his city. He was treated like the King he is. As he climbed out, Nick gave him a subtle nod, as if answering an unasked question. Andy placed a hand on her back and guided her onto the restaurant. When she looked around, the place was deserted save a man holding a bottle of wine. “Andy?”

“I don’t want people to know my business until I am ready for them to know. So I bought out the restaurant for the evening.” He had the hostess lead them to a table. It had fresh roses and little tea candles. Rory looked around and saw that the entire restaurant was glowing from candles. Andy pulled out a chair for her to sit.

The waiter didn’t ask but immediately poured wine into the glasses. “Plum wine to start miss, sir. Pairs well with the moo-shi appetizer.” Another waiter brought out a plate of food.

Rory picked up the chop stick to start eating and she notice Andy was struggling, frowning and frustrated. “May I show you?”

Andy snapped his head up as she rose from her seat. Rory stood behind him and placed her hand over his, her face close to his. He was enthralled. He could smell her perfume, the scent of her shampoo. He could almost taste her skin, the creaminess entrancing him. Her small delicate hand was soft but firm from years of kneading dough. She softly formed his fingers into the right position. As she withdrew, her hand grazed his knuckles ever so gently that it raised goosebumps. “There,” she pronounced, “try it.”

Andy tried and succeeded grasping the food. Rory smiled and moved to sit when Andy grabbed her hand. She gasped at the sudden movement, a tremble moving through her body, Andy could feel the fear racing through her. He gently pulled her hand and brought it to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

She blushed at the gesture. “You’re welcome.” She sat back down.

“Tell me about yourself.” Andy wanted to know everything about her.

“Well, I grew up a few blocks from the bakery. My grandparents took me in after my parents died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s ok. I was ten when that happened. I started baking as a way to meet friends and it just grew from there.”

“I do have to complement your bakery. That red velvet cupcake is divine.”

Rory giggled. “That’s my specialty. It’s my favorite flavor.”

Andy looks at her with adoration. “Mine too.”

The conversation flowed for the rest of the mean with Andy asking question after question, absorbing everything he could. Turns out, pink roses were Rory’s favorite. She toys with her wine glass. “So, will I get to learn more about you Mr. Barber?” Her tone is flirty.

The question took him back. He signaled the waiter and paid before leading her out. “Let’s take a stroll.” He walked next to Rory, contemplating what to say. He cleared his throat. “I built my standing from the ground up. The people in this town needed protection from a devil of a man. I did everything in my power to first, protect my neighborhood and then eventually the town. I did have a woman, Laurie and she had my child, Jacob.” His eyes had sorrow at the mention of his son. “But they both died in an accident many years ago when he was just a baby. Since then, I focused on my business. I made it strong, brutal even. I had no reason to look at life differently. Until I saw you.

“Me?”

“You. You were like a breath of fresh air. So beautiful, so innocent. I just… I just wanted to know you.”

“I’m no one special Mr. Barber. Just a girl trying to make her way in the world.” Rory stopped to look at the sky. “It’s so pretty here.”

Andy stood behind her, running his nose by her neck, hearing her breath hitch in surprise but noting how she closed her eyes, as if she was holding back her desire. “It’s because you are trying to make your way in the world that draws me to you.” She looked back at him. “May I kiss you Miss. Thatcher?” She nodded and he pressed his lips to her.

His lips are full, soft and sweet. One would think that his beard would be harsh but it’s not. It’s soft, brushing against her face. He pulls back and sees her slightly swollen lips, her eyes still closed. He smiles but kisses her again, a little harder this time but not forceful. Her lips meld to his, heating her very core.

Kissing Andy Barber has to be her new favorite thing in the whole wide world.

#andy's hea #andy's shenanigans #andy barber #lloyd hansen #andy barber au #chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans au #andy barber fiction #andy barber fanfic #lloyd hansen fic #andy barber smut #aurora #Andy barber vs Lloyd Hansen

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faelodis · 7 months

Note

what’s the worst thing about shipping for you? do you prefer to plot a ship, or would you rather “wing it”? what’s your OTP when it comes to your muse? what’s your NOTP when it comes to your muse? what’s your BROTP when it comes to your muse? is there a ship you used to like, but not anymore? is there a ship you used to dislike, but now you like? is there a ship you wanted to play, but couldn’t yet? what’s something that immediately turns you off from shipping with someone? do you have a favorite memory when it comes to rping a ship? how many relationships did your muse have? how easily does your muse get crushes?

[Shippiiiiing]

2. what’s the worst thing about shipping for you?

hmmm I don't think I have a worst thing? the "worst" thing is that my brain will go from "sort of relationship" to "deep trust, loving, hot, steamy, everything" in like 3 days and i can not change it. My brain is not set for slow burns apparently.

4. do you prefer to plot a ship, or would you rather “wing it”?

Usually I prefer winging it because nothing ever goes to plan when it comes to my muses. Something happens mid plot and they're like "i'm going WAY OVER HERE" and I'm just like "well what the fuck do we do now?"

That and I like unexpected stuff. It's less stressful when I only have to worry about the beginning of the interaction and can just watch stuff unfold. And often times, the unexpected stuff is really fun!

15. what’s your OTP when it comes to your muse?

admittedly it's a 3TP with Inference and Ronald. Or just D.M./Inference and D.M./Ronald separately.

Only if the other party agrees, though.

16. what’s your NOTP when it comes to your muse?

For the love of god, D.M. and Noir are brothers. I can not STAND to see them romantically shipped. "but they're adopted though, that makes it okay" thanks for admitting you don't see adopted as family

That one is very much a squick for me, please never come to me about D.M.xNoir ever

17. what’s your BROTP when it comes to your muse?

Also D.M. Ronald. But past that, I like to think D.M. and Tuberose have a weird relationship where, yes Tuberose is D.M.'s employee, but also D.M. helps him out when needed and he just trusts Tuberose to get his jobs done and lets him do whatever he wants on the side. Which is a lot for D.M. regarding anyone.

I'd say Inference and D.M., but we all know that if Inference doesn't end up liking the bastard, he'll be on the war path to get the fucker arrested. Man will go from "I tolerate you" to "I'm GOING to put you IN JAIL" and D.M. will enjoy the best game of chase he's ever had.

18. is there a ship you used to like, but not anymore?

For D.M.? Not really.

19. is there a ship you used to dislike, but now you like?

Amusingly, Mr. Inference D.M. because "The Client" just didn't feel like someone Inference would jive with. Initially, he felt like a lofty, nervous wreck of a noble who had no real connection to Mr. Inference.

And even when they kind of redid him with the showcase of "D.M." in the 3rd anniversary trailer, I was like "Why would Inference like him when this man is sus and they seem to be at odds?"

But then a friend and I started rping them, and as I got into my D.M.'s character, I realized that the two have actually start out in lore with a decent relationship since Inference is willing to help D.M. and go to that party, and D.M. was able to trust Inference's help in the first place. And that D.M. finds Mr. Inference fun to watch and have around. And I saw how the two could end up getting along well enough to ship.

Not the most healthy ship (what D.M. ship is healthy?), but certainly one that's entertaining.

20. is there a ship you wanted to play, but couldn’t yet?

With D.M.? Not really. My friends are willing to play the characters I do actively ship him with. And potentially could ship him with.

21. what’s something that immediately turns you off from shipping with someone?

(I alluded to this on my Crimson Sword) This doesn't apply much with D.M., given he's bisexual and also a fae with little regards to gender/sex, but ignoring my muse's sexuality so you can "ship with me." Most of my muses are ace or bi, but my muse sexualities aren't arbitrary. Don't ignore them just because it doesn't fit your fantasy.

31. do you have a favorite memory when it comes to rping a ship?

I thiiink my favorite was when my friend and I (after a lot of build up) had Joseph forcibly admit to Black Guard that he realized he was in love with the man, fully expecting to be rejected since their Black Guard was a couple with White Guard, only for Black Guard to come back a little later and kiss Joseph and tell him they can be a thing. Joseph was absolutely caught off guard and ended up very happy.

Second favorite, and first favorite regarding D.M., was probably when another friend and I were playing out the T&I gang talking over a text chat. D.M. and their Inference were an unofficial thing, with D.M. even thinking Inference didn't feel near the same about him and just accepting it.

And then at one point, White was asking Mr. Inference about his cases and Inference mentioned a certain someone keeps showing up. White responded "Oh, you mean your boyfriend?" and both of them were completely dumbfounded. AND THEN MY FRIEND HAD THEIR LUCA PASTE THIS INTO THE CHAT.

AND I WILL NEVER FORGET IT BECAUSE THUS STUPID EMOJI MADE ME BUST UP LAUGHING. AT NIGHT.

36. how many relationships did your muse have?

I mean, this is D.M. we're talking about. He's a playboy. He's had a lot of flings, probably over 30 just in the time since after the war.

He's canonically dated and broken up with Rosemary, implied to possibly have dated Succubus, and tried his damnedest to date Lady Bella. And his character sheet even says people love him for his looks. Do you think he hasn't had a lot of relationships?

38. how easily does your muse get crushes?

Very. You're a pretty lady, or a feminine man, or a chiseled strong guy? He'll probably have a brief-but-strong crush on you. D.M. has no shame.

#out of desire #d.m.xronald #d.m.xinference #dating the detective #admittedly I have never disliked GattoxD.M.#I think the art of it's cute #I should make more ship tags

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imaginesandbandfiction · 2 years

Text

Sisters

An Outer Banks Imagine

Pairing: Alludes to future JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: John B's older sister introduces her brother and his best friend to a few of her favorite things.

A/N: This is based on the song Sisters by Saint Motel, and as an older sister myself, this song makes me feel valid, even though I'm not as cool of a sister as the reader in this fic. It's sort of a prequel/companion piece to Switzerland, which if you haven't read yet you should, but they aren't directly connected. In my mind, though, they take place in the same universe.

Masterlist

You were the one who took John B and JJ to their first kegger. Purely out of self-preservation because it seemed like the cops showed up to parties in the Cut more often than they did to parties on Figure 8. Your younger brother was your life insurance policy, and since he and JJ were attached at the hip, you let him tag along, too.

Alright by Supergrass was blasting through the Twinkie’s speakers and your long, beach-tousled waves were whipping around your head, courtesy of the open windows. John B was laughing as you sang at the top of your lungs, off-key as usual. JJ was in the seat behind you, tapping the back of your headrest along to the beat. The sun, which was just beginning to set, cast a golden glow around you. It felt like a coming-of-age movie where you were the star.

You slammed on the breaks a little bit too hard and JJ’s body slammed into your seat with a thump.

“Sorry, sorry!” You yelled over your shoulder, through giggles, as you parallel-parked next to the small stretch of beach where the keg was set up.

“How the fuck did you pass your driver’s test?” JJ asked, groaning a little bit as he peeled himself off of the back of your seat.

“The guy didn’t make me parallel park!” Your cackles filled the empty space left when the music shut off along with the car, and you tossed the keys to your brother.

“You’re in charge, John B. Just no drinking, alright?” You told him, pointing a stern finger his way before flipping the mirror down to fix your hair.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, giving you a mock salute. You could see JJ’s eye roll reflected in your mirror, and then the boys were off. You smiled to yourself as you watched them approach the party; John B’s side of the car had been closer, so he got a head start, but JJ ran after him and jumped onto his back, letting out an excited whoop. John B buckled under his weight for a second but then caught himself, and he let JJ stay there for a few seconds before shoving him off. When you were satisfied with your hair, you followed them into the mess of bodies and made a beeline for your friends.

A few hours later, someone had started a game of boom cup, and John B watched with an amused smile as JJ chugged the boom cup. His head was tipped all the way back and the combination of beer and whatever else people had poured into the cup dribbled down the sides of his mouth and onto his shirt.

“WOOOO!” he yelled once he finished, and he slammed his cup to the ground as cheers erupted from the crowd around him. You clapped along with them as he yanked his wet shirt over his head and tossed that to the ground, too.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, finally noticing you standing on the edges of the game. “Come play with me!” His eyes were wide and he looked like an over-excited puppy as he bounced on his heels while waiting for your response.

“Okay, okay,” you said, chuckling as you walked up to the table.

“Yay! You can be on my team.” He slung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “DID YOU HEAR THAT GUYS? Y/N’S ON MY TEAM!”

“There are no teams in Boom Cup,” John B said. As he was probably the only sober person at the party, he was the only one thinking rationally.

“Shhhh, JJ, you don’t have to yell! We’re all right here!” You told JJ, resting your arm on his shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture.

“YEAH BUT THE MUSIC’S REALLY LOUD!” He yelled in response, and then it was your turn to roll your eyes. The rest of the group fell into spots around the table and started the game. JJ got to start since he lost the last game (or won, depending on how you looked at it), with some Touron on the opposite end of the table. It took JJ a few tries to get the ball into the cup, but once he did, he passed it over to you. You tried your best to make your shot as fast as possible, but after a couple of beers and two shots of tequila, your hand-eye coordination was suffering. The other cup made it to Rafe Cameron, who got it on his first try, and then he leaned across the table to slam his cup into yours, much to the excitement of the rest of the table. With a groan, you passed the two cups to your left and grabbed a full cup from the middle of the table in one hand, and snatched the ping pong ball out of Rafe’s hand with the other. The cup was full of some sort of vaguely-fruity mixed drink that mostly tasted like vodka, and you shivered as you chugged it.

The game went on, and Rafe Cameron continued to target you. He was unfairly good at the game. On the fourth time it happened, JJ tried to jump over the table at him but John B managed to pull him back before he flipped the table over in his blind rage.

“What the fuck, Cameron?” He shouted as he thrashed in his best friend’s arms. “Why are you targeting Y/N like that?”

“JJ, chill, man, it’s just a game,” John B said as he tightened his grip around the other boy.

“Yeah, it’s fine, J. I’m okay,” you reassured him, squeezing his shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s just a game, man,” Rafe echoed. “Chill out. She can take it, can’t you, Y/N?” Rafe’s gaze shifted from John B and JJ over to you and he slid his Ray-Bans down to wink at you over the frames. “I’m sure she can take a lot.” The suggestive undertones seeped through your skin and settled just beneath the surface. It made you want to scratch until your entire body was red and raw, but you resisted that urge and instead balled your hands into fists.

“Fuck you, Rafe Cameron,” you spat at him.

“Oooh, feisty, I like it.” He turned to your brother. “Routledge, your sister’s hot when she’s mad.” John B’s grip tightened around JJ’s arms, but before anything more could come of it, flashing red and blue lights caused mass hysteria.

“COPS!” Someone shouted, and everyone scattered. John B dragged JJ back towards the van, and you scooped up JJ’s forgotten shirt and followed them, diving into the back seat as John B pulled off of the curb. You laid down on the floor in front of the bucket seats with your hand on your stomach, breathing heavily.

“Holy shit,” you whispered through giggles.

“Yeah, holy shit is right,” your brother repeated, though his tone was deeper and angrier than yours. You decided to ignore him and close your eyes, enjoying the way you could feel every turn the car made from your spot on the floor. If you really focused, you could pretend you were out on the HMS Pogue, floating in the middle of the ocean with nothing but your best friends for miles.

“Y/N, can we smoke some weed?” JJ blurted out into the silence, breaking you free from your daydreams.

“What?” You asked as you sat up, trying to sound outraged. “I don’t… I’ve never smoked weed.”

“Don’t even try, Y/N,” John B butted in, flashing a cheeky smile at you through the rear-view mirror. “We saw you and Lexi smoking in the hammock the other day.”

“That wasn’t weed! I just…stole one of dad’s cigarettes. Just to try it!” JJ turned around and glared at you with the slightest hint of a pout on his face and you couldn’t keep up the act anymore. “Okay, fine, turn around and drive to the Lookout. But if you tell dad about this, I will kill you in your sleep. And take the back roads!”

“Yes!” JJ cheered as John B whipped into a U-turn, slamming on the brakes so hard that they screeched.

“Hey! Be gentle with my car!” You yelled at your brother, grabbing the center console so you wouldn’t get thrown into the car door.

“It’s my car, too,” John B shot back.

“Not until you get your license, it isn't!”

“Fine, then I won’t be your DD anymore.”

“Okay, I take it back! Be gentle with our car. Please.” He hummed in acceptance and drove the long way to the Lookout, which only really took five extra minutes but avoided the main thoroughfare where the cops were most likely camped out trying to catch drunk drivers.

He parked as close as he could and you leaned over JJ in the passenger seat to grab the makeup bag from the glove compartment.

“It’s been in the car this whole time?” JJ whined. “Dude, we could’ve figured that out.”

“Whatever, dude, it’s not like it matters now. C’mon,” he shoves JJ towards the side of the car and gets out to lead the way to the hill. You clambered up the giant rock at the top and sat cross-legged, laying out the supplies in front of you. Grinder, rolling papers, lighter, and, finally, a double-Ziplocked bag of bud, which you held up in front of you.

“This,” you said, pausing for dramatic effect, “Is weed.”

“Yeah, we know, we’re not five years old,” John B said with just a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Jury’s still out about JJ on that one.” You turned your head to look at the boy in question, who was struggling to re-tie his shoelaces. He looked up at you with a stupid grin on his face and gave up on his shoes to watch you roll a joint. With practiced ease, you ground the weed until it was as fine as you could get it, and then you laid it in the middle of a rolling paper.

“How long have you been doing this?” JJ asked, mesmerized by how fast your fingers worked as you rolled. He crossed his legs and rested his head in his hands, staring at you with his lips parted in awe.

“I dunno, a while, I guess.” You feigned nonchalance with a shrug.

“And you didn’t share?” John B scoffed, offended. “I thought we shared everything.”

“Not everything.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him as you licked the edge of the paper and pressed down so the joint wouldn’t fall apart. “Remember Colin Matthews?”

“Okay, gross, not what I meant!” Your brother shoved your shoulder in disgust.

“Hey, be careful! I’ve got precious cargo here!” You held up the finished joint with a satisfied smirk. JJ went cross-eyed staring at it and John B grabbed at it, but you pulled your hand back and stuck it between your lips. “It’s my weed, I go first.” John B grumbled something under his breath that sounded a little like ‘fucking sisters’ but you ignored him and flicked the lighter once, twice, three times before it caught flame. Your first inhale was deep and smooth, and you held it in your lungs for as long as possible before you blew it out in a slow, steady stream. Both JJ and John B reached for it next, and you swatted JJ’s hand away, handing it to your brother instead.

“Don’t take too big of a hit at first,” you warned, “and try to hold it in for a few seconds, otherwise it’s not gonna hit as hard.” He nodded and proceeded to do the exact opposite of what you told him to; he took a deep breath to mimic yours and ended up spluttering all of the smoke out before it could even reach his lungs.

“Bro! Don’t waste it,” JJ scolded him, plucking the joint from between his fingers.

“Like you’re gonna do any better,” John B rasped, still struggling to breathe after that rough first try. You leaned over and thumped him on the back a few times to help him get it all out.

Not one to back down from a challenge, JJ lifted the joint to his lips and inhaled. He had enough common sense to take it slow and stop as soon as he felt his throat start to burn. A couple of coughs still managed to escape, but overall, he had fared way better than John B (and you the first time you smoked, but you weren’t about to tell him that; he’d never let you live it down).

“You’re a natural!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands together in front of your chest. JJ beamed at you as if you had just told him he won the lottery.

John B’s second try went better than his first, and soon all three of you were passing the joint back and forth with ease. It was funny to watch the boys as they started to feel it; they insisted they didn’t feel anything but you knew they were just trying to act tough and keep up with you. Their eyes were glassy and they kept giggling at everything.

When John B toppled over onto his side, you cut them off.

“Y/N, noooo, give it back,” he moaned, making half-hearted grabby hands at the almost-finished joint you had just pulled out from between his lips.

“I think you’re good, Johnny boy,” you took a quick hit and then gestured to him with the joint between your fingers.

“Okay, but I get it again, right? Since John B started before me, I get one more, to make it fair,” JJ tried to argue, reaching across the circle to try and take it from you.

“Yeah, but his first one didn’t count.” He pouted and made puppy-dog eyes at you to try and convince you to let him have more, but you just shook your head and laughed. You leaned back on one elbow and finished off the joint with two more deep inhales, then pressed it into the rock to put it out. John B had rolled over so he was lying flat on his back and he pointed at something above you.

“Look, guys! Do you think that’s a UFO?” He asked, and you followed his hand and noticed a blinking red light slowly making its way across the sky. JJ’s eyes widened and he looked back and forth from you to John B.

“It’s probably just a plane, dude,” you said through your giggles. You let yourself fall backward and laid perpendicular to your brother so you could use his stomach as a pillow.

“Hey! I want to lay down, too,” JJ whined. He crossed his arms and pouted at the two of you with a furrowed brow, which sent you and John B into a laughing fit. Your head bounced up and down in time with his laughter, which only made you laugh harder.

“Nothing’s stopping you, buddy,” you finally managed to wheeze out. JJ’s face did a 180, flipping his frown into a smile, and he settled into the pile, lying parallel to John B with his head on your stomach.

“This is nice.” JJ let out a small sigh and his eyes fluttered shut as he burrowed his head into the fabric of your t-shirt.

“Yeah,” John B agreed. He tilted his head down so he could look at you, and took a fistful of your hair in each of his hands. “I love you, Y/N.” He flopped the pieces of hair back and forth over your face and smiled down at you with the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. “You’re the best sister ever.” Your heart swelled with so much love for your little brother that you were sure it was going to kill you.

“Love you, too,” you replied through your own big, stupid grin.

“Hey, what about me?” A half-asleep JJ mumbled against your stomach. You reached down to ruffle his hair, letting your hand linger in his blond locks.

“We love you, too, JJ,” you whispered. You weren’t sure if he heard you, but he nuzzled his head against your hand and hummed in satisfaction.

Yeah, loving these boys would probably kill you one day, but it would be worth it.

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